When Fates Intertwine
by K'ger
Summary: "You are very strange," the thick, rumbling voice mused aloud from beyond the veil of shadowy darkness. It was a loud voice, echoing against the cave walls and hurting his ears. There was no backing out now. "You are neither human, nor god. What are you?" He swallowed. His throat felt thick as he did. He could see an occasional shimmer, the sheen of a claw catching the sun's rays.
1. Part One: Denial

Stolen Hearts

* * *

"…Ah…"a cracking, feminine voice hissed, her tone echoing against the cold masonry walls of her prison cell. Deep crimson eyes the shade of blood cracked open from years of disuse, thick lashes framing the angled, almond shaped irises. "…I have company…"

Bones creaked and popped as she rose to her feet, as if it was the first time in months. She ran her tongue over the surface of her lips, wetting the parched skin, and opened her eyes again, taking in her cell. She walked over to the iron door that confined her, and ran her slender fingers along the metal doorframe, as if searching for an inlet, a weakness, a means of escape.

She released a warm breath through her mouth, steadying her hands on the higher of the two hinges.

"**_…_****_Pando, O Principo_**," she breathed, her voice a raspy whisper dripping with venomous hatred for her confinement. "**_…_****_Libera te_** **_tutemet-!_**"

From the other side of the iron door, a velvety smooth voice murmured.

"**_…_****_Expergiscimini et furor, O odibilem…_**"

Her fingers momentarily bounced away from the metal, as if being pushed away by an invisible force. She ground her teeth together, and pushed her fingers back toward the metal, forcing them to touch, and she let loose a shriek of laughter. Her voice was drowned out by an earsplitting bang, and looking onward, she smiled condescendingly at the open space where the door once had been. The hinges still clung to the doorway, attached to the wall and nothing more.

She strode out confidently into the dark, foreboding hallway beyond, snarling a warning at a few curious rats that had scurried over to investigate. The rats squeaked and retreated, but not before she snatched one up by the tail and leered into its beady yellow eyes.

Strangely, there was no one to be seen in the hallway, the voice had belonged to someone, and yet she couldn't see them.

"I'm so hungry…" She hissed, smiling again and this time revealing her pointed canines. In one fluid motion, she threw the rat into the air, and swallowed it whole, sighing at the satisfying sensation of food in her stomach as she strode into the shroud of darkness that was the Shadow Temple.

"It's time for a feast!"

* * *

A hot summer breeze blew gently across Hyrule field, carrying the scent of hay and fresh flower blossoms and cooling the otherwise sweltering heat of midday. On the sprawling compound of Lon Lon Ranch, horses whinnied and sighed in the heat, taking refuse under the massive oak trees that were scattered through the main pasture.

Amid the gentle sounds of resting horses and songbirds twittering to their mates, a long, low groan reverberated from within the barn. Link opened the door to Epona's stall, carrying a bucket of water in one hand, and a bundle of blankets and towels in the other. The big red mare lifted her head from the thick bed of straw, sweat dripping down her long neck, causing several strands of her white mane to stick together.

Link set the bucket down, and slung the towels over the stall door. He moved over to Epona, kneeling in the straw and gave his attention to the foal that had obviously been born mere seconds before he entered the stall. He quickly broke the birth sack open, and set about cleaning out the foal's nose and mouth with gentle fingers, ensuring that it's airways were open and it could breath freely.

He then grabbed a towel and started to clean off the excess fluid, revealing that the foal would be a beautiful mahogany color, a few lighter hairs peppering its back and haunches. He left the umbilical cord alone as he cleaned, knowing that breaking it too early could endanger both mare and foal, and instead rubbed his hands over the foal's head, rousing it, and smiling when it gave a tiny, meek little whinny.

Epona lifted her head from the straw again at the sound, and swung her neck around so that she could reach her foal. Link stood, and, again being careful of the cord, lifted the foal up and moved it closer to the mare's side. She immediately began to nuzzle the newborn, making soft noises from deep in her throat.

He backed away, leaning back against the stall door. He turned his head when gentle fingers brushed along the back of his arm, and smiled as Malon leaned around him and stared down at Epona and her new foal.

"Is it a filly? Or a colt?" She asked in a hushed tone, leaning her shoulder against his side.

"I haven't looked too hard, but I'm pretty sure it's a filly." He responded, looking first at the foal, and then to Malon. Both adults looked out of the stall when the barn door creaked open, and two young children came bounding inside, fits of laughter following them closely behind.

The first to enter was a girl, probably about six years old, with medium-length strawberry-blonde hair that had been tied into a tight braid behind her head. Racing along after her was a boy, closer to the age of three or four. His hair was nearer to a light shade of red, and was just as messy and unkempt as Link's. They both scrambled over to Malon, the little girl dancing around her feet while the boy clung to Malon's legs.

"What'cha doin' mommy?" The little girl asked in a bubbly laugh, standing up on her tiptoes and trying to look over the stall door. She was just a tad too short, and could only catch a glimpse of the top of Epona's head.

"Here," Link said, pulling away from the door and letting it swing open wide enough for both children to peer inside. The little girl gave a small, joyful squeak as soon as her eyes caught sight of the foal, and the boy stared at it unsurely.

They both watched with excitement as the foal stretched its gangly legs out in front of it and pushed upward, standing up shakily. After only a moment, it plopped back down onto its knees, giving a soft, breathy sigh as it folded its legs inward.

Epona stood from her place on the stall floor, and moved over to the bucket of water that Link had brought in with him, lowering her head and taking hearty drinks of the warmed liquid. Again, it was another trick-of-the-trade among horse people that you always offered the mare a bucket of warm water after the foaling. It was easier on the mare's stressed body to drink lukewarm water than cold, and the touch of molasses that had been added helped to energize.

Upon lifting her head, the mare pressed her muzzle against Link's shoulder, breath ghosting over his skin. He gently rubbed a hand over the bridge of her nose, whispering a few encouraging words to her and watching as she pulled away, reaching down and nuzzling her foal.

Malon moved over to stand on the other side of the stall door, leaning against Link and watching the newborn filly as she tried yet again to stand. She pushed up onto her tiny hooves, legs wavering beneath her frame, but as she gained her footing, she took a few shaky steps, making her way over to her mother.

Malon gave a soft cheer as the filly reached up under Epona, suckling for the first time and getting the valuable antibodies she needed for a healthy start in life. But as they watched the foal, Epona threw her head up, frightened, and the foal slumped back down to the floor when a gigantic commotion came from outside the barn. Both children yelped, and immediately took shelter behind their parents' legs.

"What is that?" Link breathed, carefully pulling out from in front of the little boy and striding out of the stall, quick steps taking him down the isle and out of the barn. Malon gently ushered both children out of the stall as well, and with a final check to make sure the foal was alright, closed the stall door and headed out after Link.

She blinked in the bright sunshine, her eyes took a moment to adjust to the difference, and as her vision came back to her with clarity, she saw that the compound was still in one piece. The pasture fence was still intact, and the house was still standing. What had caused the ruckus?

She quickly jogged over to Link, who was standing near the east-facing wall, staring up at the sky. She followed his gaze, and her heart skipped a beat. A thick plume of white smoke was swirling up into the sky, partially blocking out the sun as it spread across the horizon.

Fire was bad news in the middle of summer. It had been close to a month since the last rain, and the grass was dry as tinder, and would feed a fire like nothing else. It could overtake the entire sprawling field within hours if the fire came their way.

Link stared up at the plume, and, noticing that he was standing next to one of the tall oak trees, dodged over to it and started climbing. He climbed quickly, until he could see over the wall.

"It's coming from the forest!" He called, taking one last look at the plume of smoke that was towering over the verdant expanse beyond and swinging back down.

"From the forest? What happened? What about the estate?" Malon asked, looking between Link and the plume. He shook his head softly, and strode back toward the barn, entering the darker area and quickly grabbing a saddle from the tack area.

"Link? Wait, what are you doing?" Malon asked, following closely behind him, a suspicious tilt to her head. He opened the door to one of the other horses' stalls, and quickly started to saddle the horse within.

His second choice of horses to ride, seeing that Epona was taken, was one of the two stallions they owned, a smaller gray horse Malon called Tau. It was a much different experience than riding Epona, there was no connection with this horse, and he tended to be a bit hot-tempered, choosing to do as he wished and requiring a stronger hand to control. But he was fast, and could go longer distances than the other mares.

He tightened the cinch around the stallion's midsection, and took a bridle from the peg outside his stall, slipping it over the horse's head and fastening it securely.

"I have to go and see." He said, checking the straps one last time and leading the stallion out into the isle. Malon's expression turned to one of sudden fear. A sense of terrible foreboding washed over her, and she suddenly took a hold of his arm, a fierce intensity swirling in the pools of her irises.

"No! Link, do you remember all those years ago? Every single time you left on your own, you would end up nearly dying!" She said desperately, staring up into his eyes. The determined smile he had been sporting faded, and he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

"I have to check, the estate is out there, I have to make sure dad, Saria, Malikai and the others are alright." He responded, hugging her for a few seconds, and then leading the stallion out of the barn.

Malon looked toward the hay pile, where the two children were playing, laughing in ignorant bliss.

"Kara! Rinku! Come on, its time for lunch." She called, walking slowly toward the door after making sure that they were following. Upon reaching the outside, she saw that Link had mounted the stallion, and was heading out of the front gate.

The little girl noticed this immediately, and tugged on the skirt of her mother's simple blue dress.

"Momma, where's daddy goin'?" She asked in a sweet, innocent voice, looking up at Malon with huge blue eyes. She smiled down at the little girl, a fake smile she hoped would fool her.

"He's just going to visit your grandpa…"

* * *

Link rode quickly toward the forest, urging the stallion to continue as the scent of smoke became thicker and more cloying. He steered Tau easily through the thick underbrush, knowing the route to the estate and guessing that he could reach the place blind.

The air around him became thick with smoke as he ventured deeper, clouding his vision and making him fear that he would loose his sense of direction. But it only took a few minutes to reach the crest of a hill just before the sprawling estate, and a terrible scene was laid out before him.

The estate was destroyed. The beautiful stained glass windows that had adorned every wall had been shattered, and the walls torn down. Embers sparked on the wood like tinder and kindling, and sent glowing specks into the hazy grayness that was swirling around.

"What the hell…" He breathed, rasping voice drawling off. He kicked the stallion forward, urging him down the steep decline and toward the destruction. His face was set firmly in a consistent look of shock and fear. Where was everyone? Where they all dead?

As they made their way carefully over the rubble, the stallion suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, ears flicking forward, twitching and muscles tightening beneath him. The stallion stared straight ahead, whites showing up on the corners of his eyes. Link looked ahead as well, and his stomach nearly dropped out from underneath him.

Wordlessly, eyes glued to the spot that the stallion was staring, he slipped from the horse's back, thick leather boots thudding on the rubble. He carefully crossed the area, staring at the limp, lifeless body before him.

Aldric, his father, was dead. He was lying over the rubble. He was holding something small, which glittered like gold, in his hands, ridged fingers clasped tightly around the object. His face was drawn with the pain he had felt, and Link felt like he was going to vomit when he saw what had killed him.

The older man's thick leather tunic had been ripped away from his chest, leaving it bare, and where his heart should be, an empty hole remained, bloody trails snaking over the remainder of his unharmed chest and staining the ground where he lay.

His heart had literally been cut out.

He had never regained the kind of relationship he had had with his father as a child, but over the past six years, he had rekindled it somewhat, making this all the more painful. He reached forward with shaking hands, fingers wrapping around his father's icy hands and prying them open.

Within, he found that his father was clutching a golden Triforce pendant. It was the one that he had always worn underneath his tunic, but apparently, the clasp had broken, which was why he had been holding it. He had never gone anywhere without the pendant.

"Looking for something?" A cold, feminine voice hissed, an unfamiliar voice to Link's ears and quite unwelcome. He jerked away, staggering to his feet and staring into the haze. Two glowing red irises appeared from beyond the veil of smoke, and he gulped softly as a woman approached.

She was tall, easily as tall as him, if not taller, with matted black hair. She strode effortlessly, gracefully over the rubble, and stopped mere feet away from him, a condescending smile on her lips. She licked her lips, bright red blood was covering them, pooling on her chin in large droplets and dripping onto her scantily clad chest. She wore a long purple dress, one that left her shoulders and a good portion of her chest bare, and was cut up one side, allowing her more flexibility.

As he glared at her, he suddenly realized why blood was dripping from her mouth, and he seriously felt sick.

"Oh, poor little man. What's wrong?" She cooed, raising her right hand to the air and pressing thumb and forefinger together, snapped them together. The stallion reared up, throwing back his head and giving a scream of fright before bolting, stumbling over the rubble and disappearing beyond the haze.

He watched her, and his chest contracted involuntarily as several more pairs of glowing red eyes appeared from the mist. The other people she had summoned were men, tall as well, with black hair the shade of a moonless night and malice glinting in their eyes.

A sudden severe pain filled his upper, left arm, followed closely by an intense burning sensation. He over, and cringed when he saw a large dart was lodged in his arm. The group laughed at his perplexed expression, and the woman wiped the blood from her mouth as he wrenched the dart from his flesh, giving a small groan as the pointed needle dragged through his skin.

Looking closer at the group, he found that they were shadows. He could tell by the blood-red shades of their irises. Why were shadows here? Why had they attacked the estate and killed everyone? And why did the woman look familiar?

He couldn't reason with any of these questions. His mind started to feel like a clingy, cloying fog was settling over it, clogging his thought process and making him feel like he was off balance, like he was going to fall over at any moment.

"Mistress, should I-?" One of the shadows started, moving toward him with a knife in hand and teeth glistening with saliva as he smiled toothily at him. The woman flung her hand out, stopping him before he could take another step.

"No, Chesed. Leave him be, the poison will kill him soon enough." She said calmly.

"But Lore-"

"Back down, Chesed. I would watch my tongue if I were you, or would you rather end up like that one there?" She hissed dangerously, pointing toward Aldric's body and putting a bloodied hand on the shadow's chest, long fingernails tapping against his skin. He looked first toward Aldric, and then backed away quickly, eyes widening at her insinuation.

Link suddenly lost balance, and dropped to his knees, still glaring at the shadowy group.

"We've gotten the ones we needed, and killed the ones we don't. Lets go, Her Grace is waiting for us in Ikana, and she won't take kindly to us if we're late." The woman said finally, turning her back to him and leading the shadows back into the haze without another word.

The rush of blood in his ears was deafening, and it took only a moment more before he couldn't even sit up straight. He slumped backward onto the ground, heart pounding painfully against his ribcage, and his vision blurred mere seconds before he fell unconscious…


	2. The Caravan

Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda. (No curses at the moment. Sorry)

**K'ger: Second chapter! Yay! I'm excited to introduce these new characters.**

**Also, Shout out to Link'sLily, Foyet-The-Reaper, &amp; Don'tKillMe32! Thank you all!**

* * *

The Caravan

* * *

"We don't need more cargo than we already have."

"Mistress Fala says we bring him, are you questioning her authority?" Another voice inquired, tone harsh and questioning. He opened his eyes tiredly, unsure of what exactly was going on. What had happened? The sky above him was a clear cerulean blue, soft clouds lazily drifting across the surface.

Where was he?

"But we don't even know if he's what her client is looking for!" The first voice pressed further, pitch rising slightly. He experimentally balled his hands into fists, and then released them. There was some kind of resistance, like something was holding his arms close to his body. With some struggle, he pushed himself upright, and his eyes widened, not comprehending what he was seeing.

He wasn't in the forest, instead all around him a massive field stretched as far as the eye could see, long yellow grass billowing in the wind like waves on the ocean. Where the field ended, the sky began, and in the farthest distance, he could faintly see something tall, a man-made structure of some kind. It looked like a tower.

Closer to him, a half a dozen wagons were scattered, white canvas covers' stretching tight on the wagons' frames in the wind. Massive horses were hitched to each of the wagons, two each, with grayish-black coats splattered with white markings all over their bodies. Their manes were longer than any he had ever seen, hanging down to their chests on both sides of their necks, and their huge hooves were all but obscured by the thick plumes of feathering that adorned their hocks.

They were easily the most beautiful horses he had ever seen, even more beautiful than Epona.

Large brass bells were attached to their harnesses, catching the sun's bright yellow rays and glinting, giving off faint golden glows and jingling as the horses shifted and pranced.

"Don't push your luck, Asami. Mistress Fala is our leader, and we're here to serve her." The other voice snarled, startling Link. He whipped his head around, and saw that two people were standing behind him. They both had their backs to him, one was a woman, with long golden-brown hair that cascaded down her back in a mass of tightly curled ringlets. The other was a man, his dark brown hair was cropped short, hanging just above his rounded ears. They weren't Hylians.

He stiffened when they both turned their heads, and their eyes met his.

"Oh, look. He's awake." The woman said, a devious look curling across her lips.

Link tried to stand up, pushing against the ground with his feet, but something stopped him. He glanced toward the ground, and found that he was tied. Thick ropes were wrapped around his wrists, binding them together and keeping him on the ground.

"What the hell?" He hissed, struggling against the stake that kept him grounded. The woman gave a soft laugh as he strained against the ropes, and the man walked away, heading for one of the wagons.

A few minutes later, he emerged again, stopping a few feet away. Another woman stepped gracefully of the wagon after him. This woman was a little shorter than the one that was standing over him, with long, wavy brown hair. A blue scarf was wrapped around her head, keeping her hair in place and tied together at the front with an amethyst pendant. Over her chest and midsection, she wore a billowy azure blouse, with spiraling red patterns across her sleeves, and underneath a skirt swirled gracefully around her ankles.

A dusky spread of green rested atop her eyelids, framing her eyes, which glinted like liquid silver. She walked over to him, stopping mere feet away, and leaned forward, eyes taking in every inch of his face.

"Who're you?" Link growled, setting his jaw defiantly. The woman laughed gently at him, and he stiffened when she ran a silken hand across his cheek, donning a seductive grin.

"You'll do well," she said in an elegant, husky voice. "My client will pay double for you."

He gave her a questioning look, not realizing what she was insinuating for a moment.

"Wait, what do you mean?" He asked as it dawned on him. She laughed again, and swept a hand across his hair, slender fingers playing with a few golden locks.

"_I mean_, that you're my paycheck."

"This is wrong!" He said, snarling, voice rising.

"There really is no rest for the wicked, as they say. I have mouths to feed, and you're quite the catch. Its nothing personal," she responded, smiling at his angered expression. "Our careers go by many names. Thieves, paid companions, slave traders, nothing can keep us tethered, we just float around the world, doing as we please and making a little cash on the side."

"And if someone 'buys' me, what will they use me for?"

She smiled, and walked a few feet away, reaching out and stroking on of the horses' necks.

"What my client chooses to do with you is not my concern. As long as I get my money, I'm happy. You look strong, they'll probably use you for labor, although, you aren't a bad looking boy, they might use you for entertainment. It's not my place to ask."

She turned to the man, and nodded softly.

"Get this one into the cart." She commanded, jabbing a thumb at one of the wagons. He gasped when he felt someone's hands grab at his, and he was hefted roughly to his feet. The woman held tight to his wrists, bending his arms violently and sending searing pain jolting through his muscles. He was pushed forcefully toward the wagon, and gasped when the woman shoved him inside, closing the door after him.

He could hear a soft click, and knew that she had locked the door. He was stuck inside. Looking around, he found that the inside of the wagon was all but barren of any furniture, and the only source of light came from a barred window near the rounded ceiling. Naturally, he had been locked into the one wagon that had solid walls, which provided no means of escape.

Soft yellow sunlight filtered in from between the iron bars of the window, casting strangely shaped shadows on the wooden floor of the wagon, and just as he stepped forward, and stopped short, realizing that he wasn't alone.

Two people were sitting against the wall, faces obscured by the shadows. Link gave a startled cry as the wagon suddenly surged into motion, and he was thrown off his feet, falling forward and landing on his chest.

"Hey, mister, are you ok?" A voice asked, youthful, with a tone of concern. He looked up from the floor, and found that one of the people had moved slightly, leaving their face visible. It was a boy, probably in his mid-teens, fifteen or sixteen years old, with shaggy black hair that hung loosely below his ears.

"I'm fine, thanks." Link muttered, pulling himself up into a sitting position on the floor.

They sat in silence for a few moments, merely listening as the wagon creaked and the wheels rattled outside.

"My name's Benjamin, but everyone calls me Benji. What's yours?" The boy asked, looking at him curiously.

"Link." He answered somewhat gruffly, looking toward the window, yearning for the freedom beyond, and feeling a bit claustrophobic. After years of working outside with the fresh air and open space of the ranch, confined spaces were not his favorite.

He cautiously glanced back at the boy. Were these people really going to sell a teenage boy? It was bad enough that they had kidnapped him, but he was an adult, to kidnap and have the intent to sell off a minor on the slave market was disgusting.

The other person that was sitting next to Benji shifted slightly when he moved, and revealed that it was a girl. She was younger than Benji, his best guess was eleven or twelve years old. Her hair was long and wavy, and hung all the way toward the small of her back. A simple white dress clung to her form, and staring at him, she hugged her knees, sparkling green eyes glinting with fear.

Benji caught Link's gaze, and looked toward the girl for a moment.

"And this is my sister, Annalise."

Noticing the girl's frightened expression, he gave her a bright, calming smile. She softened slightly, but the fear remained.

Benji leaned closer to Link, lowering his voice so that only he could hear.

"She's um…she's," he stammered for a moment, searching for the right word. "She's got…issues."

Link raised an eyebrow, head tilting to one slightly in interest and curiosity.

"Issues?" He asked in a low whisper, watching as the boy nodded.

"She's kind of…special, we'll say. If anyone but me touches her, she breaks down."

They went silent for a few minutes when the wagon bumped, throwing them all off balance.

"Why is that?"

Benji looked toward his sister with a caring smile, reaching toward her and patting her knee. When he returned his gaze to Link, a fiery anger had suddenly found its way into the green pools of his irises.

"Let's just say that our childhoods' weren't…conventional. Our father was abusive, and our mother was never around to stop him. She was a traveler, moving all over the world, and when she finally did come back from her traipsing, it was only because she was in a casket."

The wagon bumped again, and was followed by the loud clopping sounds of horses' hooves on a hard surface, like cobblestones. Link stood carefully, putting his arms out to balance himself, and made his way over to the barred window, grabbing onto the bars for support.

Outside, he could see that the caravan had taken to a wide cobblestone road. He had no idea where this road had come from, or where it was headed, but in the distance, he could see a huge, most likely man-made structure. It was tall, reaching toward the sky like a tower, and all around it, massive walls guarded it from below.

As the wagon moved toward the tower, details started to become clear, and he found that the tower wasn't just a tower. It was a clock tower.

"We're almost there, aren't we?" Benji asked from his place on the floor, looking up at Link with a reserved expression.

"Almost where?"

A rueful smile crossed Benji's lips.

"We're almost to Clock Town…"

* * *

Five huge black horses sped across the barren landscape, hooves sending up large plumes of dust in their wakes. On their backs, five people rode, one woman, and four men, all with hair as black as the horses they rode. The sky was a perpetual, gloomy overcast, swirling with a foreboding aura that would have unnerved anyone but the current travelers.

The horses galloped agilely up a steep incline, passing by the dilapidated remains of a long-dry river. They continued, following a switchback path that led high into the mountains, soon entering a dark, natural tunnel that went on for about a hundred feet.

The riders slowed their horses to easy trots when they exited the tunnel. Before them, a huge tower stood, massive walls adorned with colorful murals that made the structure look like a monster, gigantic maw serving as the entrance.

Standing in front of the entrance was a tall figure, ratty leather cloaks obscured all but the glowing orbs of his eyes, and underneath, it could be seen that the figure was holding tight to the hilts of two long swords, blades glinting in the strange light that was filtering through the overcast sky.

"Greetings, Garo Master." The woman said in a silver-tongued voice, riding up to the figure.

"Did you bring them?" The figure said in a gravelly voice, looking toward the horses.

"Three Hylians and one Gerudo. As promised." She responded, turning her horse slightly to one side, revealing that there was a young woman, tied and slung, unconscious over her horse's haunches.

Three more people were slung over some of the other horses, and the woman smirked in content as the figure stepped aside, allowing her and the others' access to the temple.

"Proceed. Her Grace is waiting for you…"


	3. Slaves' Mark

**K'ger: Ok, well, I've said it once, and I'm gonna say it again. This chapter is...disturbing. Really, I'm starting to question my mental state. Silence is Golden was fluffy and cutsey, this story is...dark. So far at least. you've been warned, and I have to important things to talk about at the bottom.**

* * *

Slaves' Mark

* * *

"Mommy, what's a Licky Licky?" Kara asked from the floor. She and her brother were laying on their stomachs, pouring with wide eyes over a heavily illustrated book that Jack had given them both for Mid-Winter. Malon smiled softly, and knelt beside her daughter, looking at the page of the book she was reading.

On the page, an inked picture rested, depicting a strange, cylindrical mass of squishy flesh. She read the description underneath, and gave a soft laugh.

"It's a Like Like, not a Licky Licky, dear. It's a monster that lives near water." She said, smiling, ruffling the little girl's strawberry-blonde hair with a gentle hand as she stood. She moved over to the kitchen, and after rolling up her sleeves, started to wash the leftover dishes from the dinner they had finished earlier.

She jolted when the front door opened, hinges betraying the person's entrance with loud squeaking sounds. Oh, I guess Link never got around to oiling those before he left.

Kara and Rinku both leapt to their feet immediately, crying out in excitement and running toward the two people who had entered, scrabbling against their legs, laughing.

"Oh, hi Jack, McKenna." Malon said, smiling. Finishing up her washing, Malon walked over and greeted her friends, hugging both of them before reaching down and bringing Rinku into her arms when he uttered a great yawn.

"Can you excuse me for a moment? It's the children's bedtime."

Jack and McKenna nodded, and watched as she took a yawning Kara by the hand and lead both children upstairs to their bedroom. McKenna moved over to one of the chairs and sat down with a sigh, while Jack strolled, hands clasped behind his back and eyes wandering the floor.

He stopped when he caught sight of the book that still lay open on the floor, and reaching down, he brought the book into his hands and began to thumb through with amusement.

"Huh, I guess this was a good present, looks like they like it." He muttered, smiling as he perused the pages. A few minutes later, Malon came out of the bedroom, closing the door with a soft click behind her and making her way down the stairs.

"Malon, Blondie hasn't come back yet…has he?" McKenna stated quietly, looking at her with a concerned expression. Malon shook her head, and moved over to one of the windows, staring out at the black velvet sky. The view from this window brought back her hope, if she could see the moon, then Link could too. Wherever he was.

She and both of her houseguests jumped when someone else knocked on the door.

"Who could that be at this hour of night?" She breathed, striding over to the front door and peering through the peephole. Standing on the other side was a man. He was short, with his hair shaved down to bare stubble, and over his head he wore a strange, red and white hat that matched the uniform he wore. Strapped to his back, he had a banner that read "Inter-regional mail".

She opened the door, eyebrows raised as she met the gaze of the strange man on her doorstep.

"Uh…hello? Can I help you?" She asked, looking at the shorter man with a tired expression. McKenna stood from her chair, and taking a hold of Jack's arm, she followed him over to the door, curious and eager to catch a glimpse of their late-night visitor.

"Would you happen to know a Mrs. Malon Escorlan?" The man asked, his voice startling when first being heard. It was high pitched, with a very un-masculine tone to it, but Malon shook herself of the shock that assaulted her at first, quickly answering him.

"That would be me."

"Oh, of course ma'am!" He yelped, reaching into a satchel at his hip and rummaging through, searching for something particular. After a few tense moments, he sighed and produced an envelope. The corners were bent, and the return address was smudged, but Malon found that the paper inside was still intact, as she ripped the envelope open with agile fingers.

But as she read the first few words, she looked up, and found that the postman was still standing on her doorstep.

"Um…is there anything else I can do for you?" She asked awkwardly, holding the letter in her hands and looking at him with an unsure gaze. It seemed to take him a moment to realize what she meant, and then a sheepish look crossed his youthful features.

"O-Oh! R-r-right! Of course!" He gasped, quickly turning away and bolting out the front gates without another word. Malon shook her head softly, and continued reading the letter. Jack and McKenna watched, occasionally exchanging nervous glances when Malon remained silent, and when she took a look, McKenna's eyes widened.

Malon was still staring at the letter with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape as she looked at the paper in her hands.

"Hey," Jack said softly, pulling away from McKenna and moving over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

She swallowed roughly, closing her eyes and letting her head tip back. A few tears slipped down her cheeks.

"My sister just passed away…"

* * *

The wagon stopped. Link looked up, startled by the sudden stillness. Benji and Annalise were still asleep against the wall, Annalise resting her head against her brother's shoulder. He stood up when he heard a soft click sound, and turned, narrowing his eyes when the door swung open.

The two wanderers from before were standing there, ropes hanging from their hands. He took a few steps back, but failed to escape what was coming for him. The woman lunged forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and restraining him by holding one arm tightly, bending it in an obscure way that made the bones pop. He gave a soft yelp and softened, relinquishing his need to fight for sheer pain relief.

The next thing he knew, the ropes had been tied tightly around his torso, binding his arms behind him and wrapping around his wrists for good measure. He was dragged out of the wagon, and thrown onto a nearby stool.

Glancing around, he found that the caravan had entered the city. Huge, brown brick walls surrounded him whichever way he looked, and looming over them, clawing at the sky, was the clock tower, perpetually ticking the time away. The wagons had created a small half-circle near one of the entrances, making a sheltered area for the group of wanderers. From between the wagons, passersby peered in with interest sparking in their eyes, wondering who the newcomers were, and what they meant for their city.

The sun was setting, already dropping down below the crest of the high, protective walls, and resulting in an eerie purplish hue that swirled across the otherwise black velvet sky. A fire had been lit in the middle of the half-circle, and a low growl rose instinctively from his throat when the woman from before approached him.

When he struggled against his ropes, one of his two captors grabbed his neck from behind, thumb and forefingers digging painfully into the skin behind his ears.

"Hold still," a male voice hissed, fingers tightening on his neck. His head was forced back, the skin on his throat tightening as he stretched back. He watched through the bottom of his eyes as the woman from before came up to him, reaching out and pressing her fingers against his neck.

His eyes flicked to the left as a younger woman came up beside him, a hinged box in hand. She opened the box with careful hands, displaying it for the woman. The blood ran from his face as he saw what was inside. Nestled tightly in the red velvet that lined the box, ten glistening white bones rested, thick on one end, thin and sharp as needles on the other. Next to those was a small corked bottle of thick black liquid.

The woman gingerly took one of the bones in her right hand, and leaning over, touched the sharp-end to his skin. A few beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck as the sharp end of the bone pressed a little harder against the left side of his neck.

She gave a sudden burst of strength, and he cried out as the needle-like bone jabbed into his skin. She yanked it from his skin just as quickly, and repeated, again and again. Deft strokes of her hand brought the needle to his skin over and over again, jabbing into his neck and, as a result, fresh red blood trailed down onto his chest and shoulder, staining his off-white shirt an ugly crimson.

He gritted his teeth as the needle jabbed in again, sending fresh waves of pain through his flesh. After close to twenty minutes, the woman finally stopped mere seconds before he would have lost his composure, and wiped the needle clean on a rag, then wiped the blood from his neck.

He cried out again when she rubbed the black liquid over the wounds. The liquid stung in the deep wounds, and her hand disrupted the skin, making the back of his knees feel weak with pain. The woman used nearly the whole bottle of liquid, and when she was thoroughly satisfied with her handiwork, sent him off to the wagon again.

He collapsed when one of the men shoved him inside, and for a moment, he let himself lay there, fighting the urge to faint again. After he collected himself, he dragged himself into a sitting position. It was then that he noticed the bowl of water nearby, and looking onto the reflective surface, he grimaced at what he saw.

Spreading across his neck was an intricate tattoo, permanent black lines swirling across his skin in an everlasting pattern. Means of identification, nothing more. He had been marked, and forevermore he'd have to live with the mark of a slave…

* * *

He brought his fingers to the still-throbbing wounds on his neck, wincing as they touched, pain flushing through his veins. It had been four hours since the tattoo had been forced upon him, and it still ached, and it probably would ache for quite some time.

He already hated it.

Voices came at the door, causing him to freeze. He listened intently, straining his ears to hear what the voices were saying.

"We can skip the formalities, Mistress Fala," an unfamiliar voice cooed. It was obviously a woman. "You know why I'm here."

"Yes of course. Here, the one you'd be interested in is in here." Mistress Fala's voice answered, being followed by a soft, dreadful click. The door swung open, light from the city flooding inside and illuminating him with a soft yellow hue.

Two women stood outside, Mistress Fala and an unknown woman with hair the shade of night and harsh, scrutinizing green eyes that took in his every feature. Gracefully, and with great ease, the unknown woman stepped into the wagon, and approached him, towering over where he still sat, cross-legged on the floor. He pretended not to notice her, looking straight at the wooden walls of his prison, his jaw firmly, stubbornly set.

He snorted softly when a different pair of hands came from nowhere and forced him to his feet. Glancing back, he could see that Mistress Fala had entered the wagon, and was forcing him to stand before the other woman.

She leaned in close, peering into his eyes and giving a soft, barely audible laugh of approval as she looked him over from head-to-toe.

"Strong chin, finely featured. This one is of noble blood. But," she mused, suddenly grabbing his chin between her thumb and forefingers and forcing his head up, forcing him to meet her eyes. "His eyes are strong and proud, like those of a feral beast. The eyes of a thief."

A low growl rose yet again from deep in his throat as she rubbed small circles on his skin. Fuming, he finally snapped when the woman slowly dragged a slender finger across the surface of his lips, and he clamped his jaw shut, teeth crushing down on her fingertip.

She gave no cry of pain, gave no indication that she even felt it. She merely stood there, eyes flashing slightly as his incisors ground into her perfect skin, drawing small traces of blood. He grimaced at the flavor, and reluctantly, he let go of her finger, spitting the blood out and glaring at her defiantly.

"What's your price?" The woman asked Mistress Fala, looking at him with amusement. Mistress Fala chortled slightly, tightening her grip on his wrists.

"Hmm, I was thinking somewhere around 10,000…but…tell you what, repeat customer discount. 5,000 take it or leave it."

He glanced aside as the woman pondered the steep price Mistress Fala had laid out, and saw that Benji and Annalise were still sitting against the wall, watching with frightened eyes as he was held, and his fate decided.

"5,000 rupees is a lot to pay for a slave. All I need is someone to work the smithy."

"Ah, but he's worth every penny you'll spend."

The woman laughed, as if at a joke that she was intent on keeping to herself.

"I'll take him…"

* * *

The inside of the Stone Tower was dark, and all around, the long-empty rooms were flooded with sudden life. Energy flowed through the room that the group had entered, making the air feel thick and causing one of the shadows' to cough. The horses stopped at the edge of a pitch-black ravine, throwing back their heads and letting loose soft nickering sounds of worry and apprehension.

The woman licked her lips before calling out.

"Your Grace, I humbly present your prizes."

Ahead of them, the blackness seemed to take on a life of its own, different colors appearing and creating eye-catching patterns. A few seconds later, the colors took on a human shape. The shape of a human woman. Torches suddenly exploded into life, flames flickering and illuminating the darkness, revealing what lie beyond.

A woman was indeed there, sitting with one leg crossed on a dark, twisted throne. Her hair was an arbitrary shade of violet that glimmered in the firelight, hanging around her shoulders in lush, curled locks. Her eyes were a startling yellow, with green around the edges of her irises, and when she parted her plush red lips, revealed the glistening white fangs that hid beyond. Hanging on a rope, fangs three-times the size of her own rested against the skin of her chest, not quite reaching the top hem of her purple and red dress.

She stood from her seat when the shadow woman slipped from her horse's back, moving over to one of the other horses and pulling the small, crumpled body of a young boy. His hair was a shocking shade of red, short and cropped close to his head. He was probably close to six years old, still small enough for the woman to carry easily, but large enough to hold his own when he woke.

She placed him on the stone floors before the strange woman, and prodded his shoulder with a bare foot.

"Boy, wake up." She commanded. His eyes cracked open, revealing their amber hue. He was obviously of Gerudo descent. He looked around unsurely, already large eyes widening with fear and unknowing.

She leaned down, bending in half and giving him a falsely reassuring smile.

"Little boy, what is your name?" She asked, widening the fake smile when he looked at her with fear.

"No! Don't tell her anything!" A different voice screamed, the woman whipped around, smile vanishing in a flash. The young woman that had been slung over her own horse had woken up, and was staring over at the little boy, voice high and carrying the pitch of a mother's concern.

She turned back to the little boy, and smiled again.

"Don't listen to her. I'm your friend, you can tell me." She insisted, watching the subtle twitches that affected the little boy's expression. He was torn, and she could use that.

"What's your name, little boy? I won't hurt you."

"Please! Don't listen to her! Never tell a shadow your name! Remember the stories I read you!"

The little boy looked toward the younger woman that was still slung over the horse's haunches, and then to the woman that was leaning over him.

"If you tell me, you can play. All day long."

His expression twitched toward eagerness.

"M-my name's Malikai…"

* * *

**K'ger: So, two important things to talk about:**

**#1. JAC. **

**I read your review, and no, I have not played Minish Cap, so I didn't know. Its just the disclaimer, just for fun, nothing serious. Thank you for your kind words of Princess of Demons and Perseverance. But, as to which stories I update, this is the only one I'm certain on. I am hopelessly blocked on Perseverance, and no one seemed interested in Princess of Demons, which drops it to low on the totem pole of things to update. Also, I'm sorry you found the ending of Silence is Golden...Dry? if you mean it wasn't action-y enough, I'm sorry, but I need my warm milk before bed.**

**#2. (this is a personal thing, no need to read unless you're bored.)**

**This afternoon, I was riding in the car with my mother, and a strange sounding song came onto the radio. We turned it up, and lets just say that my face wasn't pretty. It was absolutely disgusting! And so degrading of women! It said (things I remember, they might be incorrect, basics, basics): **

**"You should dance on a pole."**

**"You can twerk in a thong, cuz its your thing."**

**"I'm gonna call you my B****."**

**Ladies, if we don't have any respect for ourselves, no one will. We need to stop buying into disgusting, chauvinistic perverts like these. We can vote, we can get jobs, hell, we can do everything men can, and yet we date pigs like these? These men are supposed to be the fathers' of our next generation? **


	4. Touched by a God

**K'ger: Ok, not much to say here, except be weary, again, gory stuff, dark themes, death. Should be used to that by now but I'm gonna be cautious.**

**But I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas!**

**(I got Ocarina of Time 3D! Its amazing!)**

**I do have a question for all my readers, though. Do you think I should switch to an M rating? Is this too dark? Too gruesome?**

* * *

Touched by a God

* * *

Malon looked at her father, worry sparking in her blue eyes.

"Are you sure you can handle the ranch all by yourself? It's been years since you've even picked up a pitchfork, let alone take care of close to twenty horses." She asked, glancing at the compound, horses were grazing in the pastures, and a few Cuccos were scratching around, digging up worms and eating insects they happened upon. The thought of leaving her now elderly father in charge of her home was frightening.

Talon laughed softly, waving her off with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

"Oh, I'll be alright. Go, someone has to help Romani through this. And these old bones weren't made for travelin'." He answered, looking past Malon. Epona and Cerus stood beside the front gates, tacked-up and ready, with full saddlebags hanging over their haunches. Next to Epona, the young mahogany filly stood, big brown eyes taking in every detail of the huge world around her, and occasionally yanking against the rope halter that kept her close to her mother.

Epona would then give a half-annoyed whinny, and nudge her foal with her muzzle, urging her to be calm and stand still. Not an easy task for a young foal.

Jack and McKenna emerged from the house, heavily packed satchels hanging over their shoulders. McKenna had changed from her usual red and gold skirt and chest wrapping, opting for a more travel-hardy red, form-fitting shirt, and cotton trousers. Jack had changed less than her, the only difference being the vest that he now wore. It was pure tanned leather, with delicate tooling over the chest and shoulders.

Following closely behind them, Kara and Rinku bounced out of the house, the little girl was wearing a simple white dress with purple embroidered flowers and miniature work boots. The little boy, on the other hand, wore a tunic of blue fabric, and the same boots as his sister.

Malon hugged her father quickly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and then moved over to Epona with a nod of her head. She swung easily onto the huge mare's back, and leaning down, brought both children onto the horse with her, settling them in front of her and keeping her arms around them for safety.

With a final wave, Malon kicked Epona through the gates, the young filly trotting bouncily alongside and Jack and McKenna following behind on Cerus.

"Mommy, where're we goin'?" Kara asked, craning her head back so that she met her mother's eyes. Malon's fake smile faded altogether, and to comfort herself, she began to run her fingers through Epona's thick white mane, focusing on the way each individual stand slipped through her fingers.

"We…uh…we're going to visit your cousin, Romani…"

* * *

They rode for the remainder of the day, across Hyrule Field and entering the forest. As they traveled through the thick forest, Malon kept a careful watch, always searching for a clue, a sign, anything that pointed to where Link was.

The sun was starting to set, falling below the tree line in a blaze of reds and oranges, and as the group broke through a particularly thick bit of underbrush, the horses stopped abruptly. Before them, the ruined remains of the Escorlan Estate were spread. Smoldering rubble, embers occasionally still clinging to the wooden beams that remained intact on the ground.

Malon couldn't suppress a small gasp, and quickly covered her mouth with one hand to quiet herself, not wanting to frighten the children. Jack and McKenna rode up beside Epona, both of them with their mouths agape at the ghastly sight that was laid across their lines' of sight.

"Momma, what's this?" Rinku asked in a small, meek little voice, one that was obviously underused. Absently, Malon reached forward and rubbed a hand over his small head in a reassuring way, fingers brushing against his bluntly pointed ears.

"It's ruined…" She said breathlessly, putting both hands forward and holding the two children more snuggly against her. She tapped Epona's sides with her heels, urging the mare to take them closer to the rubble, and sat with a stiff back, shivering as a chilling thought came to mind. Had Link gotten caught in the fire? Would she find Link, dead, in the rubble?

These thoughts spiraled out of control as the mare slowly made her way down the hillside, each one worse than the last.

But as the group rode somberly over the rubble remains of the estate, they found no sign of Link, or anyone, for that matter. That is, until they reached a barren patch Malon guessed to be part of the courtyard. Epona stopped abruptly, and soon after she caught sight of why the horse had stopped, Malon gasped and whirled the horse around in an instant to keep the children from seeing what she had viewed.

Looking to her right, she saw that Jack and McKenna's horse, Cerus, had stopped as well, and both of his riders were staring at the same thing she had seen. She leaned to the side, so that only they could hear.

"I have to get these two out of here, they don't need to see that." And with that, Malon spurred Epona forward, urging the mare into a brisk canter over the rubble, further toward the east with the filly following obediently beside her mother.

Jack and McKenna stared at the gruesome sight before them for a few minutes more, entranced, before snapping out of their stupors and quickly wheeling Cerus around, bidding the stallion to follow after Epona and Malon.

They quickly caught up with her, and rode alongside as Malon whisked them all away from the sickening pile of bodies they had found, blood still dripping from the lifeless corpses. But the more sickening sight had been what lay before the pile. A message had been scrawled in their blood.

_"__Watch your backs."_

Who would have done such a thing? Ever since Ganon had been defeated six years ago, most people didn't even dare touch Hyrule, let alone massacre the entire estate of one of the most affluent Dukes in the kingdom. It was a grand statement all right, teetering on a declaration of war. But _who_ was declaring it was yet unknown. The nearest kingdom was Termina, and although it was true that Termina and Hyrule weren't allies with one another, they had never diplomatically shown distaste, especially with such a brutal display.

They rode quickly through the remainder of the forest, eventually slowing to an easy trot when the forest became sparse, only a few trees dotting their views and instead being replaced by the massive expanse of an open field.

The grass was tall, and swayed in the gentle night breeze. The moon shown down on the field, giving the grass a haunting, ghostly appearance, like the grasses of an ethereal plain talked of in the legends of old.

They rode slowly into the field, horses bobbing their heads, sniffing at the unfamiliar air and taking in the scents that surrounded them. Kara and Rinku were both leaning against her chest, quickly being soothed into sleep by the gentle rocking motions of Epona's steps. Their travels continued silently for another hour or so, heading deep into the night, not a one of the adults making a sound, all too scarred to speak.

Instead, they merely listened intently to the sounds of the night. The soft chirping of crickets that hid deep in the grasses, out of sight but serenading the few creatures that stayed awake to hear their desolate song. The occasional twittering of a bird that had been woken from its slumber. The thud of their horses' hooves on the ground, a rhythmic beat like the solemn pounding of a drum.

As they listened, and tried desperately to forget the gruesome images that were currently locked tight in their minds, Malon, Jack and McKenna were jarred abruptly from their thoughts as the horses came to a standstill.

Cerus pulled his head back, ears slowly turning to lie flat against his neck, and Epona gave a cautious tilt to her shoulder, both shielding her foal from oncoming danger and making it easier for herself if the need to take flight arose. Malon looked forward nervously, eyes once unfocused now sharpening, coming to rest on a strange looking creature a few hundred feet away. Epona's muscles tightened underneath her saddle, and Malon grabbed tight to the mare's mane as she gave a warning stomp of her hoof.

The strange creature did not move, other than tipping its head back a miniscule bit. But from deep inside it's thickly furred throat, a startling howl erupted. It was a low, baleful sound, piercing the night sky and sending a shiver down Malon's spine. The melancholic howl drawled on into the night, dying off low, and the creature turned slightly, it's face twisting toward them a few more inches and coming into the direct light of the moon.

It was an odd creature, the shape of its body resembled that of a stag, tall, with a long body slumping down toward the back and blending seamlessly into its hind legs. Its legs were thick, but elegant, curving inward and becoming thinner toward its hooves, and a thick ruff of brownish-gold fur covered its heavily muscled neck, hanging low in front of its thick barrel chest. But its head was arbitrary for its body, with a long, narrowing muzzle, like that of a wolf, and eyes centered more toward the middle of its face, again more like a wolf than a dear.

Its eyes blazed bright gold in the dark, with silver pupils that reflected the moonlight.

Epona threw back her head, ears flicking back and forth out of fear and distrust, and she put her head down, nudging her foal away and turning sideways when the creature started toward them. Its gait was like the movement of liquid silver, pure and smooth, the very essence of grace.

Its head remained completely still as it walked, lifting each hoof high into the air and setting it down without the slightest waver. The horses neighed cautioning words in their own tongues to the creature, willing it to stop, to go on its own way.

But the creature did not listen to the horses' reasoning. It continued toward Epona, eyes completely affixed on Malon as it stepped even closer. Malon remained atop Epona, frozen as the creature came so close that she could feel its breath on her face. It reached forward with its narrow muzzle, pressing its nose against her forehead, taking in her scent. Its nose was wet, and cold against her skin, like the nose of a dog.

She looked into the creature's eyes, and the blood drained from her face as it opened its mouth a small ways, revealing the sharp, yellowing teeth that lined the inside of its mouth, lodged firmly in the pink flesh of its gums and glistening with saliva.

Her eyes momentarily flicked down to where her two children were leaning against her, peacefully asleep and completely unaware of the creature that stood mere inches from them. The creature met Malon's gaze again, then turned quickly, its body bunching up tightly before it sprung, leaping like a deer.

It bounded away, dodging to the left and right sporadically, and all three adults stared in wide-eyed awe at the trail the creature left behind.

The padded down grass where the creature had landed started to glow, a faint white light at first, but growing brighter as the creature fled further and further into the night, until the only thing they could see were the prints it left behind.

Looking to direction in which the creature had fled, Malon could vaguely see a strange silhouette on the horizon. A tower, highest point clawing at the black velvet sky, giant walls protecting it from below, and the face of a massive clock shining like a beacon in the night, illuminated by flickering firelight.

"What in the hell was that…thing-?" Jack asked breathlessly, wrapping an arm around McKenna's waist from behind her on Cerus. Malon stared after the creature as well, eyes occasionally moving down to the path that the beast had left behind.

"I might be wrong, but I think that thing was a God." McKenna answered, leaning back against Jack's chest. Malon jerked her head toward her travel companions, and then gave Epona a soft kick. The mare started forward obediently, but her gait was reserved, bunched up with nerves.

"Mal? Where are you going?" McKenna asked, watching as her friend rode swiftly after the strange creature.

Malon stopped Epona for a moment, and turned the mare to the side so that she could look at her friends.

"I think we should follow it…"

* * *

Link was led out of the wagon, wrists tied behind his back. He stole one last glance at Benji and Annalise, grimacing at their frightened gazes before the door was slammed shut by Mistress Fala.

"Get moving, boy." The other woman commanded, pressing a hand against his back and pushing him forward. He gasped from the force of her push, and staggered for the first few steps he took. When he lifted his head, he found that the woman was directing him toward another wagon. This wagon was open-faced, and the inside was stuffed to the brim with metal. Scrap metal, rusting and battered with age.

The two horses that stood, hitched to the wagon, were a sorry sight. They were old, geriatric in Link's eyes, with heavily swayed backs and gray hairs peppering their brown coats, until they looked whiter than the latter. Their hooves were cracked in places, and on their sides, underneath their harnessing, he caught a glimpse of ribs protruding from beyond their coats.

Another man was standing alongside the wagon, and he took a hold of Link's ropes when he drew near.

The man that held his bonds was actually shorter than him, with short black hair that was balding around the top of his round head. When their eyes met, a chill rippled through his body. The man's eyes were lifeless, black portals to an empty soul, and when he tipped his head slightly to one side, Link saw the black swirling lines of a tattoo similar to his own cascading around the man's neck.

He was another of the woman's slaves.

"Keep this one close, Zepora. This one isn't broken yet, and as a wild spirit." The woman mused, addressing the man holding him. The man dipped his head, acknowledging her, and after, the woman smiled and strode toward the front of the wagon, swinging onto the seat.

Moments later, the cart heaved forward, accompanied by the familiar clatter of horses' hooves and creaking of wagon wheels. The man called Zepora tugged on his ropes, dragging him forward after the moving wagon.

He was led through the town, not allowed the time to wonder at the narrow streets that darted off from the main road, or eye the wares that street vendors were peddling. Instead, he was dragged through at an impressive clip, reaching the field on the other side of the city walls within minutes…

* * *

He ground his teeth as he walked. The ropes were digging into his skin, leaving red, raw marks in its wake, stinging as it rubbed the first layer of his skin away and revealed the bloody flesh beyond. The wagon shuddered beside him, drawing his attention, and he stopped when he bumped softly into the man that was dragging him along.

The wagon had stopped, and edging forward a small bit, Link saw that the horses were staring straight ahead, into the shallow foothills that they had been heading toward. The small group that had been accompanying the woman gave collective sounds of awe, surprise and fear as the horses neighed softly, and then dropped onto their knees in an action that resembled that of a bow. A few hundred feet away, a strange looking creature stood.

The creature startled the group, all save Link, who could only stare at it with interest, when it suddenly leapt forward, covering close to fifty feet in a single bound.

The horses remained in their bow as the creature leapt again, and again, coming closer until it was mere feet from the group. The other members backed away, but Link stood where he was, curiosity and interest sparking in his deep sapphire eyes.

The creature, after looking at the woman intently, came directly over to him, stopping only when its wolf-like face was mere inches from his. He shuddered slightly, but stayed still when it reached forward and pressed a cold wet nose against his forehead.

"Kill that demon!" The woman shrieked suddenly. Only a split second later, Link leapt back when a gut-wrenching roar ripped from the creature's throat, and the strange beast rose up onto its hind legs, kicking out wildly with the front as an arrow buried deep into its side.

Shimmering blue blood quickly began to drip from where the arrow now resided, matting the creature's brownish-gold fur and spilling onto the rough leather of his boots as he desperately fought to dodge the beast's flailing hooves.

A cruel laugh came from the wagon, and glancing to the side, Link could see that the woman had stood from her seat, and was smiling an evil, half-crazed smile as the creature staggered on its feet, pain and anger sending it into a blind panic.

After a few more moments, the creature fled, swerving to either side, unable to hold a straight line in its pain. It disappeared beyond the crest of one of the many foothills, heading toward the south, leaving a trail of blood.

A strange feeling started to buzz in the back of Link's head, and as he was urged after the wagon again, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just been touched by a God…

* * *

**K'ger: Ok, please, everyone, I promise that this story will get lighter, more fun, fluffy, ect. I just find that the beginning to this story has to be this dark, so bear with me, please.**

**Next chapter will have some Jack antics in it, which should lighten things up a good deal!**

**Shout out to Link'sLily! Her story, According to Legend, is getting better by the chapter! I really, really hope anyone reading this will check it out! Its great!**


	5. Out Of Balance

**K'ger: Woo! I'm on a roll! This came out of a major power session! It just came right onto the page, I had ABSOLUTELY no trouble with this chapter at all. It was actually really fun to write!**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

Out Of Balance

* * *

A thick layer of early morning fog coated the high northern mountains, sparkling dew adorning every blade of grass that grew on the rolling mountain field. The altitude gave the air a chilly feel, despite it being the middle of summer, and as a small, sturdy pony of shaggy brown fur trotted across the field on strong little hooves, the rider took in a heavy breath.

He was a young man, perhaps in his very early twenties, clothed in thick leathers and sashes of bright reds and yellows. The pony's gait shifted ever so slightly beneath him, and to his well-attuned connection with the animal, it felt like the pony had tensed, as if it had sensed something it did not like.

He strained his ears, listening to the sounds of nature around him. It was very quiet, which was not unusual for this time of morning. Only a few birds twittered and cooed, and the crickets had quieted down hours ago.

But one sound pierced the stillness, cutting through the silence like a knife. It was a long, low cry, mourning and pained. He pulled his pony to a stop, and looked all around, squinting to see through the thick fog.

Looking down to the grassy ground beside his pony's hooves, a strange, glitter caught his attention. He leaned low from the pony's back, and as he drew near, saw that it was a strange, thick blue liquid, spreading across the grass and leading out of sight. It smelled metallic, like blood, and as he pulled himself upright, another painful, gut-wrenching moan met the young man's ears.

He pulled the pony around, following both his ears and the trail of bluish liquid. The pony carried him swiftly, and as he rode, the sound became louder, more desperate. He rode far from the direction he had been heading, into one of the thick pine forests that stood tall and lush in the mountains. The pony heaved a soft sigh as another moan came through the fog, and the young man ruffled the pony's thick black mane reassuringly.

With some struggle, the pony managed to break through a thick bit of undergrowth, and let loose a frightened squeal as its hooves fell out from beneath it. Both pony and rider tumbled down a steep decline, the rider pushing away so that the pony did not land on him as they rolled across the grass and bramble.

The young man gasped as he came to a stop, and laid flat on his back for a moment, breathing heavily as pain and adrenaline flushed through his body. The brambles that covered the hill had cut him in several places, small trickles of red blood coming from the wounds. He sat up after a moment, and stiffened when his eyes came into focus on a strange silhouette laying a few feet away.

They had stumbled upon a strange little glen. The creature that was lying there was lying on the bank of a shimmering turquoise pond. Cattails and lily pads decorated the shallow waters, and all around the glen, beautiful flowers were blooming, dewdrops resting on the delicate, colorful petals.

The creature lifted its wolf-like head, shuddering, and looked at him with pale yellow eyes. He gave a soft cry as the pony suddenly reared up, and bolted, charging through the brambles and leaving him behind.

Giving a low, guttural moan, the creature pushed up onto its dark slender legs. Its legs shook beneath its weight, threatening to give out. But the creature approached him anyway, breath coming in slow, shallow gasps.

He staggered back away from the creature, and cried out when his heel caught on the root of one of the willow trees that stood on the waters' edge, and fell backward.

The creature stopped a few feet away from him, and lowered its head slightly. Suddenly, it threw its head back, opening its maw and letting a venomous roar rip from its throat. The young man watched in wide eyed horror, not believing what he was seeing, as the creature's fur slowly turned black. Its eyes, once pale amber with silver pupils, drained color, turning to nothing but lifeless white holes.

Its slender legs widened, thickening, becoming sturdier. Its hooves morphed together, transforming into enormous paws, jagged, deadly claws protruding from each toe. With a final, ear-splitting shriek, the creature shook its head, small black particles floated down from its fur, and a singeing, crackling sound met the young man's ears.

He looked to the ground, and his eyes widened even further. Where the strange black particles had landed, the grass was withering, turning brown and dying beneath its touch. The creature had transformed into a demon.

A loud, malicious growl come from above him, and as he whipped his head up, found himself staring directly into the wide-open mouth of the creature. Frothy saliva dripped from its lower jaw, landing on his chest, and before he could make a move, the creature lunged.

A frightening scream echoed across the mountainside, piercing the morning silence…

* * *

Link panted softly, the air was so thin, and he was exhausted from an entire night of travel without rest. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and as he stumbled on the rocky path they were now taking, he couldn't hold back a string of curses as he tipped forward, landing hands, arms and chest on the sharp rocky ground.

"Are you ok?" An unfamiliar, feminine voice asked. He felt a gentle hand take a hold of his shoulder. He stood up, and found that a young woman was the one holding onto his shoulder. She was very young, sixteen at most, with long, straight brown hair that was tied into place in the back by ways of a simple red ribbon. Her dress was shapeless, and a simple shade of white, with splotches of dirt on the skirt and sleeves.

"Fine." He growled, brushing himself off and wincing as he rubbed a fresh cut. He started walking again, the ropes around his wrists pulling along as the wagon moved further away and drawing the rope tight.

He walked in silence, not acknowledging the girl as he walked, and shot her a warning glance when she got closer to his side. She stayed silent too, and merely walked alongside him, hands clasped nonchalantly behind her back, looking at the high cliff walls that kept their path rather thin.

"I'm not like them, you know," she said finally, not even looking at him, saying it more to herself than to anyone else. "She's my aunt, Mistress Eshana. My parents sent me out here to get some fresh air. My name's Charise, by the way," she talked on, her tone was bubbly and new like a fresh mountain stream. "You look different. What's with your ears, they're all…pointy, except that one is shaped funny. Did you get in a swordfight? Ooh! Does that mean you're a knight? A warrior? Oh, even better! A traveling mercenary traveling the world looking for his true love who got kidnapped from his loving arms by an evil sorcerer?"

Her words became faster and faster as she got more excited. Link looked briefly toward her, and put up his hands.

"No, no. I'm just a rancher. I breed-well, I _bred_ horses for a living. Nothing special."

Her face fell, and she returned her attention to the road that they were forced to follow. He kept his mouth shut, not looking at her, not realizing that the girl was stealing glances at him.

The wagon creaked beside them, the metal that was kept inside it clanked as they horses pulled it over large rocks and stones. The only sounds that met their ears were the soft shuffling sounds that the horses made, the clink of harnesses fastened to the horses' frames.

"Your parents were nobles, but you raised yourself from a young age. You have an innate distrust of other people, intensified by recent events. You've been injured in numerous places all over your body, the most intense being damage to the joint in your left shoulder, which also happens to be your dominant hand." She said suddenly, startling him. He jerked his head toward the young girl, eyes widening at her.

She smirked, a soft laugh greeting his ears.

"You're features are more finely shaped than most people here, which tells me you're of noble blood. But you walk with purpose, and have sharp jerk to your stride. I'd say you were probably a criminal of some kind. Your body language is reserved, but there are subtle tells that are pointing toward discomfort and even distress. You have scars, and you ever so slightly favor your left arm, the way you're holding it keeps pressure off of the injured joint."

"How can you tell?!" He asked, voice rising slightly in shock, and an edge of curiosity working into his tone. The girl's smile faded, and her head tilted forward a bit, shadows playing over her eyes like shields to the rest of the world.

"I…uh…I've had a lot of time to watch people. A lot of time to learn the subtle hints that betray what people say."

He raised an eyebrow, urging to her to delve deeper into her personal memories.

"My parents are nobles too. I'm their second-oldest daughter. But, well, I've never really gotten to be a kid. I was born sick, and I'm still not any healthier than the day I was born. The doctors say I've actually gotten worse. They say I won't last the winter." She said boldly, incredible amounts of bravery for a girl of such a tender age.

He stayed silent, her words sinking in and sending a small shiver down his spine. He sent a silent prayer to the Goddesses above that his children would never meet the same fate as the girl that was walking beside him. How such a young woman could possess the amount of grace ad serenity in the face of her own demise was beyond him.

"You know, you say you're enslaved? Well, so what?" she said suddenly, drawing his attention again. "So's the whole damn world. My aunt is crazy. She's throwing the whole world out of balance."

Charise pointed over to the side of the path, toward a few sparse bushes.

A small gray rabbit was sitting hunched under the brambles, staring intently with its liquid brown eyes at the group. Charise dug into the pocket of her dress, and produced a shriveled brown…something. She showed it to him, murmuring. "Chicken leg."

She flung it toward the rabbit, and Link gave a soft gasp as the rabbit leapt at the chicken leg, biting into it viciously and devouring the cooked flesh. Never before had Link even _heard of_, let alone _seen_, a rabbit interested in eating the flesh of another creature.

The group emerged from the valley. Just ahead of them, a small village stood, houses with simple thatched roofs and paddocks of sheep and goats lining the pathways.

He pulled his head back slightly, turning his shoulder toward the girls as they rounded a bend and entered the village. Standing about fifty feet away, blocking their path, the whole village seemed to be gathered, defiant looks on ever villager's face.

Some were holding pitchforks, while others merely stood, glaring at the wagon.

A middle aged woman pushed through the crowd, wearing simple village clothes but carrying herself with a confident stride that told Link she was more than just a average villager.

"So you come yet again? Are you here for more tax money? Or would you like to take our best lambs, just like last year?" The woman called, voice laced with poisonous hatred. The woman, Mistress Eshana, stepped easily from the wagon's seat, moving to stand directly across from the other woman.

"Such harsh words you speak. Can't a woman just transport her most recent purchases to her home?" Mistress Eshana said innocently.

"Of course, if that was true. You've bought more metal. When are you finally going to realize the errors of your ways and stop this madness?" The village woman retorted, placing both hands on her hips.

"Let us pass, Selia. Or I won't hesitate to set my men on you." Eshana growled.

"Oh? What men? Do you have them hidden somewhere? Or do you mean one of your metal demons? Someday, the Great Goddess will come to your doorstep, and you will regret ever setting foot in this kingdom."

"You still believe that ruddy old fairytale? Ha! You imbeciles, the era of gods and goddesses will soon come to pass, we are on the very cusp of a revolution, and when that time comes, the flames of my guns will burn you all!"

The village woman did not back down, she moved instead to cross her arms across her chest, a fierce expression settling on her face.

"The Great Goddess gives life, and takes life away. Life and death are her's alone, or have you heathens forgotten that?"

Mistress Eshana turned her back on the village woman, and mounted her wagon once again. Seconds later, the wagon surged forward again, the horses quickly being urged to trot, barreling toward the group of villagers. The ropes that held him quickly dragged him forward, and he nearly fell flat on his face as he staggered to follow after.

The villagers parted, allowing the wagon through seconds before the wagon trampled them, and the last Link saw of the village was a glance over his shoulder.

Selia, the village woman that had stood up to Mistress Eshana, was looking at him with intense interest. The wagon shuddered forward, horses breaking into smooth, swift canters, and he had to move into an all out sprint to keep up.

"Lady Selia, is everything ok?" One of the village men asked, coming over to stand beside her. Selia looked in the direction that Mistress Eshana had left in.

"That man, the one she had tied to her wagon. He's been touched by the Great Goddess, Termia…"

* * *

**K'ger: Ok, more and more characters! I can't help it! All these characters just pop into my head. Charise wasn't planned at all! She just showed up as I wrote!**

**And I lied, the Jack antics will be in the NEXT chapter.**

**Also, there were two lines in this chapter that I modified from a great movie called "Princess Mononoke" that I thought fit this story perfectly. Does anyone know which ones these lines were?**


	6. Hope Has Died, Be My Guide

**K'ger: Ok, not much to say here, except that I don't own the lyrics to the song that is featured in this chapter. All credit goes to WindWaveProductions on YouTube.**

**And a gigantic shout out to Link'sLily! She made the amazing cover art for this story! I absolutely adore this picture, and thank you so, so, so, so SOOOOOO much for drawing this AND letting me use it as the cover art! I love it so much! You're the best!**

* * *

Hope Has Died, Be My Guide

* * *

They had lost the strange creature's trail. For an entire night, they had ridden hard, relentlessly following the glowing patches of grass. But as dawn had started to break, the trail had begun to weaken with the coming sunlight. And as the sun crested the mountainous eastern region, the trail suddenly vanished.

Malon pulled Epona up as the glowing patches of grass disappeared altogether, vanishing into nothingness. The big red mare pranced beneath her, muscles tight with nerves. When she reached a hand down to stroke her neck, the mare's skin twitched, as if her touch wasn't welcome.

She looked up, scanning the place they had come to. It was a low flatland, with thick, straw-like grasses that grew in wide, yellow clumps, and thick trees with moss and mushrooms growing on their trunks. The thick bows of the trees shaded the little hollow, and the sunlight that broke the leaves dappled the ground with gentle yellow and orange hues.

But Epona didn't like the place. Beneath Malon, she pawed at the ground with her massive hooves, kicking up clumps of the grass and dirt and pinning her ears flat against the back of her neck. She arched her neck, giving an aggressive tilt to her head, a breathy snort escaping her lips as she stared intently at the far edge of glen.

There was a rustling sound, like dry autumn leaves blowing in the wind, and the head of an animal popped into sight from beyond the crest of a rolling hill in the distance. Epona threw back her head, coming dangerously close to knocking Malon, Kara and Rinku off. Shouting, Malon shielded the two young children in front of her, and groaned when the back of the mare's head whacked her painfully in the shoulder.

"Epona!" she yelled, scolding the mare. "Settle down or you'll kill us all!"

At the sound of her master's voice, the mare did calm slightly, letting her head droop forward slightly, ears dropping to either side in slight shame of her behavior. The filly that was still tied to her saddle whinnied in a shrill tone, and backed up until the rope grew tight.

Beside them, Cerus nickered unsurely beneath Jack and McKenna, looking between the creature in the distance and Epona.

"What is that thing and why are the horses acting up?" Jack questioned, holding tight to McKenna.

"I don't know." Malon answered simply, slipping from Epona's back while the mare did remain grounded and pulling Kara and Rinku down with her. Epona threatened to bolt as soon as Kara and Rinku were on the ground, but Malon stopped her with a simple tug on the horse's thick white mane.

The animal moved a bit toward them, revealing more of its body structure. It was a bull. A huge bull, with massive, humped shoulders and cream colored horns that curved outward and upward, ending in darkened, deadly sharp points. Its coat was short, and colored an off-white, with small splotches of darker hairs spotting its thick body. As it walked toward them, its hooves came into view as well. They were gargantuan, thick and heavy, and could easily crush someone's foot with a single step.

The early morning sun silhouetted the giant beast as it came astride the rolling hill. It stopped as its small, emotionless black eyes came to rest on their small group. Bubbling, frothing saliva came from its mouth as a deep, frenzied roar rumbled out from deep in its throat.

Epona reared up, frightening the filly that was still tied to her, and Cerus backed up a few paces as the bull pawed at the ground, then surged forward. The bull's hooves dug deep into the ground, leaving grooves in his wake.

Kara and Rinku screamed as the bull drew near, and in the last seconds, Malon grabbed them both and bolted out of the beast's path. The bull lowered its head, horns brandished, and skidded around on its hooves, turning to chase the three of them.

The bull roared again when Cerus crashed suddenly into his side, knocking him away from Kara, Rinku and Malon, and sending the beast sliding across the ground with a mighty thud. The bull groaned, and rose to its feet again, this time throwing an evil look to Jack, McKenna and Cerus. Epona and the filly followed behind Malon, Kara and Rinku, creating a shield of sorts, walking between them and the bull.

Glancing over her shoulder, Malon looked over at the bull, which was now pawing at the ground, undecided on whether to charge them or Jack and McKenna, and noticed a strange mark on its shoulder. The mark was a brand, a circle surrounding the insignia of a thorn-covered rose.

She stopped short, turning to face the bull. The bull snorted as their eyes met, and took a few steps toward her.

"Epona, protect these two." She murmured, running a hand over the mare's neck as she passed.

She and the bull stood directly across from each other, and a calm, confident smile slowly worked across Malon's lips as she stared it down. Never once did she blink as the bull made a few more moves toward her, every step sending a shuddering wave through the beast's extensive muscles. The bull shook its head, a splatter of froth escaping its maw as it approached her.

"Malon! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Jack cried, ramming the backs of his heels down onto Cerus' sides. The stallion leapt forward, starting toward her and the bull.

She raised a hand, jutting her palm toward them.

"Stop. Don't." She said, keeping her tone flat, never breaking eye contact with the bull. Cerus pulled up to a stop, and Jack and McKenna exchanged nervous looks.

Malon stood completely still, eyes never breaking from the bull's. The bull continued in its approach, eyes holding a strange look, almost like a sickness. Its breath was hot and acrid on her face as it drew near, and smelled of fermenting grass and hay. She slowly raised her hand again, this time reaching it forward toward the beast. Her fingers brushed against the bull's forehead, and she flattened her palm as the creature came to a stop.

"Calm your fury," she whispered in a low, calming voice. "There is nothing to fear here."

The bull's eyes flickered, almost as if for a moment, his eye color changed from lifeless black to brown. They returned to the black color seconds later, and he let loose another fearsome roar, pushing his head forward and down, so that his horns came inches from jabbing into her.

Malon stayed still, keeping her arm loose, so that his movements merely moved her with him. The bull pulled away, looking at her with peculiar glint in its eyes, like confusion.

"You don't have to worry. I'm not going to hurt you," she continued, taking a gentle step forward and putting her hand on the bull's forehead again. He shuddered underneath her touch, but this time remained still.

"Its ok. Calm down, everything's alright."

The bull's eyes flickered color again, and a frightening sound like shattering glass filled everyone's ears. The bull staggered away from Malon, backing away, head swinging side to side as if shaking an unwanted bug. When it looked up again, eyes meeting hers, she found that they now remained the milky brown color that had flickered through his irises occasionally.

A thud came from the bull, and everyone turned their heads toward him to see that the gargantuan creature had slumped back, sitting awkwardly on its haunches.

Malon stared at the bull for a few moments more before Cerus drew her attention, trotting quickly to bring his master over to her side. Jack slipped easily from the stallion's back, and gave her a wide-eyed look, mouth hanging slightly agape out of shock.

"How did you-? When did you-?" He stammered, looking quickly between her and the bull. Malon laughed softly, and knelt down when Kara and Rinku came bounding toward her, a jumble of excited cries and nervous mutterings preceding them.

"Momma, that was amazing!" Kara enthused, both small hands balled into fists and clutched over her chest. The little girl bounced on her feet, looking at her mother with a glow of admiration in her huge blue eyes. Rinku stayed a few feet away, eyes glued to the bull.

"It's ok Rinky, your Momma's got this all under control." Jack said, rough voice containing a twinge of excitement. He leaned over and picked the little boy up, ignoring the meek, soft-spoken protest that he gave, and settling him on his shoulders. It was a well-known fact to both his parents that Rinku did not care for the nickname his "Uncle Jack" had given him. But, Jack being Jack, ignored this, and proceeded to call him by the distasteful name whenever given the chance.

The bull slowly rose to its feet yet again, much more gently than the previous times, and came over to Malon, skin twitching ever so slightly out of nerves. Malon put out a hand, and smiled when the animal gingerly pressed its muzzle into the palm of her hand.

"That's a good boy." She cooed, stroking the bull's muzzle before walking away, over to where Epona and the filly were standing, away from the ruckus. She opened the saddlebags hanging off of the mare's haunches, and produced a coil of thick, sturdy rope.

Slowly, calmingly, she rubbed a hand over the bull's neck, distracting him as she tied a knot in the rope she had swung over his neck, tying him so that he could be led along.

The bull started for a moment when she gave a soft tug to the rope, and the rope pulled on his neck. But meeting her eyes again, Malon coerced the bull to follow her over to Epona. The mare reached forward as the bull came closer, and gently touched her nose to his, breathing in its scent. The bull stayed still, and moved along, following, after Malon swung onto the mare's back, kicking her forward.

"Rinku, would you like to ride with me? Or Uncle Jack?" She asked, pulling Epona over to Cerus' side. Kara scrabbled up to sit in front of her on Epona and, with a gentle hand, scratched the bull's neck.

"Um…Uncle Jack I guess." He murmured in reply, his eyes squeezing shut as Jack's hands tightened around his middle and he was swung down to sit in front of McKenna.

Malon, after making sure her grip was firm on the bull's rope, and that Kara was settled in front of her, kicked Epona forward, urging the mare toward the west. She led the small group silently, following a path that was burned permanently into her memory. She had visited her sister many times before, but as she had started her own family with Link and had helped take over the ranch, her visits had all but died off.

A deep seated guilt rose up from the pit of her stomach, a painful lump forming in her throat as she followed the path that Epona had carried her over many a time, striding under an abnormally arched tree and entering a narrow valley passage.

She hadn't visited her sister since before Rinku had been born. That was over four years ago. That had been the last time she would see her sister alive.

"Momma? Is somethin' wrong?" Kara asked in a small, concerned voice. She looked down at her young daughter, donning a fake smile.

"No, of course not! Why do you ask?"

Kara looked up at her suspiciously.

"Momma, you're crying."

In an instant, one hand flew up to her cheek, meeting directly with a fresh stream of hot tears. She had been crying without even realizing it. She wiped her cheeks dry, rubbing her eyes and nose.

Epona whinnied quietly, snapping them both to attention. She looked forward, and found that they had rounded a bend, and about a hundred feet away, an arch stood over the path, providing access beyond the fences that ran in either direction from them.

On the arch, the words "Romani Ranch" were painted in thick white paint, arching over the insignia of a thorn-covered rose.

The three horses were urged into bouncy trots, their riders steering them along the dirt path that snaked between the green rolling hills. At the tallest crest, a humble farmhouse stood alongside a tall barn. As they rode, they passed a few large cattle that were grazing in the field nearby. These cattle looked just like the bull, other than a few physical differences.

As they approached the farmhouse, Malon pulled Epona up, looking out over the hills. Cerus pulled up beside her, and Jack, McKenna and Rinku looked in the same direction of she.

"Is something wrong, Mal?" McKenna asked in a hushed tone. Malon put one hand to her ear, cupping around it to hear more clearly.

"Do you hear that?" She asked, gripping the bull's rope tighter.

"Hear what?"

"Singing."

They all listened intently, and exactly as Malon had said, someone was singing. The voice was a girl's, light and airy, like the coo of a dove.

_"__Heal my soul,_

_Make it whole,_

_For I've lost my way,"_

Epona followed Malon's urging, veering from the path and moving to trod upon the grass. The others followed, listening as the song grew louder.

_"__Search my mind_

_Help me find,_

_What has gone astray,"_

Epona stopped again. Sitting on the stump of what must have once been a huge oak tree was a young girl. She was probably just entering her teenage years, thirteen or fourteen years old at most, with long red hair that hung around her shoulder blades. She wore a simple white dress, with blue patterns adorning the edges, and a yellow scarf was wrapped loosely about her shoulders.

_"__Wait in vain,_

_Still there's pain,_

_Where did I go wrong?"_

"Momma, who's that?" Kara asked quietly, looking at the girl. Malon stroked the little girl's hair softly, smiling a gentle, but melancholic smile.

"That's your cousin, Romani." She whispered in reply, leaning low so that her words did not disrupt the girl.

_"__Hope has died,_

_Be my guide-"_

One of the horses whinnied, loud and piercing, smothering the sound of the young girl's voice. She stopped short, and her head whipped around to see. A look of confusion played across her face for a moment as she looked the small group over, and then a wide smile tugged at the corners of her lips as realization came to her.

"Aunt Malon!" She cried, jumping from her seat and dashing over to the horses. Malon leaned over and carefully threaded the rope over the bull's horns, releasing him and slipping from Epona's back as he walked contentedly away into the grass, toward another small group of cows.

Almost immediately, Romani tackled her. The young girl wrapped her arms around her waist, giving a soft laugh.

"Aunt Malon! You came!" Romani enthused, hugging her even more tightly. Kara and Rinku scrambled from Epona and Cerus' backs and came to stand behind Romani.

The older girl pulled away from Malon, and turned to greet the younger children. Malon picked Rinku up quickly when he started to look uneasy, and smiled at Kara when she danced around both of their feet.

"Oh, they're both just so cute! Do you remember me, Kara?" Romani asked, putting both hands on her knees and leaning over to look level into Kara's eyes. The little girl shook her head, and moved over to stand beside her mother's legs, one hand coming to grip the skirt of her dress.

"Romani? Where is your father? Is he here?" Malon asked, looking around the field. Romani nodded and pointed toward the farmhouse.

"Yeah, he's in the house, doing some sort of tax thingy or other." The young girl responded, moving back over to the stump and sitting down with a soft sigh.

"It's a lot to ask, but, could you watch these two for a moment while I talk to your father?" She asked, indicating Kara and Rinku. Romani didn't answer, except for a nod of her head, and silently, she ushered both children over to their cousin. Then started for the farmhouse, with Jack and McKenna following on foot behind her.

The farmhouse was well made, with oaken floors and sturdy furniture. In the far corner, a man, probably a little older than Link, was sitting at a table, masses of parchment strewn across the surface and empty inkbottles lying at his feet.

"Cyrus." Malon said, drawing his attention. The man looked up from the table, a glare momentarily meeting her, as if he had been expecting someone else, someone less welcome.

"Oh…Malon. You actually made it." He said, dropping the quill pen he had been gripping tightly and slumping back in his chair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

Malon walked over to him, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"How are you doing?"

He looked at her, deep black circles underneath his pale green eyes.

"I don't know what we're going to do," he whispered, standing up from his chair and walking over to a window that overlooked the sprawling pastures. "First Cremia dies, and now, the crops are wilting, the cows have stopped producing milk, both our cart horses have gone lame and to make matters worse, our only bull has vanished without a trace! Sometimes I think the goddesses are laughing at us…" His voice died off, and he turned his toward the window again, covering his eyes with a hand, frustration and despair gripping him.

Jack's head tipped back slightly, a rude laugh escaping his lips. McKenna slapped his arm, and as he looked down at her, a questioning look on his face, he was met with a fierce scowl.

"Knock it off, Jack!" she hissed. "Mind your manners! What? Were you raised in a barn?"

Jack rolled his eyes, and leaned over, his being a foot or so taller than her, until he was face to face with her. And before she could scold further, captured her lips with his own, silencing her. Malon groaned at her two companions, and before they could "explore" each other any further, she brought her hand down on the back of Jack's neck in a hard whack.

He yelped, and pulled away from McKenna, an irritated expression pulling at his features. Crossly, he mouthed, _'__What's wrong with you?'_

"Well, you don't have to worry about that bull of yours anymore, Madame slap-happy here caught it and brought it back."

The man jerked his head toward him, and a slight look of relief crossed his face. He nodded his thanks to their group and strode over to the table again, slumping into the chair and hunching over a piece of parchment, grabbing his quill again and setting to work.

After a few minutes of silence, a thought came to Malon's mind.

"Cyrus, does your kingdom worship any Gods or Goddesses specifically?" She asked, an image of the strange creature she had met earlier coming to mind.

He looked at her for a moment, unsure of her question. After a moment, he pointed his quill toward one of the walls, indicating a framed painting.

"Most Terminians worship a goddess named Termia. It is said that she inhabits the northern mountains."

Malon walked toward the painting, looking at it with scrutinizing eyes. It depicted a large beast, with the body of a stag, the head of a wolf, and a human's eyes. It was leaping over a ravine, with glowing patches of grass in its wake. She motioned to Jack and McKenna, bidding them to come over and look at the painting.

"Doesn't this look like-?"

"The creature we followed?" Jack cut her off. Malon nodded softly, and exchanged glances between her two companions.

"Malon, I think you've been touched by the Goddess Termia…"

* * *

**K'ger: Ok, I kind of felt like this chapter was a filler. Is that bad? I just felt like we needed a small breather. Trust me, next chapter is gonna be REALLY intense. Next chapter we get meet a creature named Goht!**

**Sorry if this wasn't as exciting.**


	7. Watch Him Bleed

**K'ger: Well, I have to say that this chapter was a little harder to write than the others. I had a lot of trial and error with descriptions and such.**

**And omigosh! Never, ever let someone tell you that being good doesn't pay!**

**My dad just bought me a Wii U! The subject had come up because I was making plans to breed my rabbits a couple of times so that I could make enough cash to buy it. Well, he beat me to it, and kept saying that its a reward for "being a good kid". It is so totally awesome! I can't wait to get Hyrule Warriors!**

**Anyway, enough about me. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and really, this story all together, because I had the greatest plot idea! This story is gonna be EPIC if I pull it off right!**

* * *

Watch Him Bleed

* * *

Hours past the mountain village, Link was led into the main room of what was called, "The Mountain Smithy."

It was a ramshackle house on the outside, with peeling gray paint on the walls and a decrepit porch, and the small stairs creaked precariously beneath his feet as he was drug inside.

The inside was not much better. Closest to him, there was a bench and a small table used for holding incidental items, and not much further ahead, a counter blocked the way, access to the rest of the room only available by ways of a squeaky, poorly hinged door.

It was dark in the room, there weren't any windows to let in any natural light. The only source was a huge hearth, inside which a fire burned, hungrily eating away at the wood that it was supplied with. He was quickly pushed through the door, into the opposite side of the room, and gasped as he bumped into something. He looked up, and found himself staring into the eyes of the largest man he had ever seen.

The man was easily larger than Ganondorf had ever been, excluding his demon form, with gray, cracking skin like granite, and black, soul-less eyes. Around his massive waist, the only clothing he wore was a thick leather belt, and tattered blue pants, frayed on the edges and ripped in several places.

"Puny man." The brute grunted, turning away and throwing another piece of wood on the fire, leaving him to stand there, unsure of what he was supposed to do. In the middle of the room, a huge black anvil stood, with a hammer, tongs and a handful of nails resting on top. Beside a tall stack of firewood, another door led further into the building, a sturdy iron lock preventing him from possible exploration. So he was stuck with the brute.

"Puny man work bellows." The brute grumped, pointing at the large, accordion-like device with a fat finger. He reluctantly walked over, and grasped the top end of the bellows with both hands, pushing down and stoking the fire.

The door to the outside opened again, and the man called Zepora entered, coming over to the counter and slamming a fist down on the hard wood surface.

"Gepora! No!" he growled, apparently indicating the brute of a man. "That one's not here to take the workload off of you, you giant blundering buffoon! He's here to help me with the project!"

The brute looked at Zepora with a blank expression.

"Project?"

"Oh for the love of-! _Gepora-!_ You _know_ what project!" Zepora yowled, coming through the door and startling Link when he grabbed him by the wrist.

"You're coming with me, boy." He reached into the pocket of his thin jacket, and produced a heavy bronze key, shoving it into the lock on the door and forcing it open. He shouldered his way through the door and dragged Link with him.

As he came into the next room, the sight before him was impossible to comprehend. He wrenched his wrist from the slightly smaller man's grip, and stood, frozen.

The room they had entered was huge, the ceilings were so high up it was almost hard to see them, and the hard stone floors stretched out before him, reminding him somewhat of the throne room at Hyrule Castle. Flickering torches illuminated the room, hanging in brackets that lined the walls. But it was what stood in the middle of the room that had startled him so.

It was a giant sculpture, or so he thought. Cast out of metal, and held together by metalworking and massive rivets, nuts and bolts. It was a bull. A giant metal bull, with horns that appeared almost to be made out of blades, like those of a sword, tips glinting wildly in the flickering torchlight.

Zepora strode out toward the sculpture, passing underneath the massive thing without a moments' hesitation. On the other side of the room, he could now see an open door, beyond which he could see the grassy field upon which the smithy stood. He followed the smaller man up to the statue, and stopped, craning his head back to look up at the metal bull's massive head.

"Boy! Come on! You're not here to stand and stare! Get over here!" He snapped, motioning angrily for him to come over to the door.

With an annoyed roll of his eyes, Link passed underneath the metal bull and coming to a stop a few feet away from the open door. The wagon had been parked there, just outside the door, the two old horses standing tiredly, still hitched.

"Get over here and help me unload this wagon boy!" Zepora commanded, pulling a large piece of metal from the wagon and dragging it into the building. "And once we're done, unhitch the horses and stable them."

He reached up, grabbing another piece of metal.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." He muttered, wincing as the metal hit the ground and sent a jarring tremor through his body. A smirk crossed his lips for the first time in days when the smaller man jerked his head around and shot him a warning glance.

Close to an hour, and several deep cuts later, a massive pile of bent, banged-up and rusting metal had amassed, piling up near the metal bull's hooves. He took a deep, tired breath, stretching his arms high above his head. His left shoulder made a quiet popping sound as the air that had started to gather in the joint was forced out, and accompanied a painful jerk in his tendons.

"Boy! Quit dawdling and go stable the horses! We aren't paying to the stand around!" Zepora commanded from the pile of metal, pulling out a smaller piece from the pile with one hand, and pointing out the door toward the horses with the other.

_You aren't paying me at all._ He corrected silently.

Just as he trudged out the door, Mistress Eshana passed him, striding toward Zepora with a purposeful glint in her otherwise soul-less sliver eyes. When she was near to him, she stopped, and looked up at the giant bull statue with an admiring stare.

"Is it almost done?" She asked, tone low and flat. Zepora gave a slight, confidant tilt to his head, a lopsided grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.

"Yes, Mistress. Should be ready tonight, provided the damn thing doesn't glitch up like last time." He answered, staring up at the bull with a devilish smile. Mistress Eshana laughed, the sound of it dripping with a mixture of excitement and pleasure and devious anticipation as she turned on her heel, whipping around and sauntering back out of the building…

* * *

The full moon was high in the sky when an upstairs window of the smithy swung shakily out into the chilly night air. Charise leaned out of the window, peering out at the field that spread out around the house.

A thin dusting of frost coated the emerald grass, giving it a lighter hue, and the full moon's light made the ice sparkle like the brightest diamonds.

Taking a breath, she turned around, and leaned out the window backwards, reaching up and grabbing the edge of the roof. She picked her feet up off the floor, and swung them up, bending her legs so that she was crouching on the windowsill.

She adjusted her grip on the roof, and then pulled, dragging herself up and scrabbling onto the roof. She walked across the roof, padding silently over the shingles until she reached the opposite side.

There, she sat down near the edge, bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, hugging them close to her chest as she stared aimlessly out into the dark, navy blue night. The stars shone brightly in the sky, like crystals in a bed of blue velvet.

An intense, stinging ache slowly worked into her chest, gripping her heart and sending painful tremors through her whole body as if a knife had stabbed her through the chest. She let go of her knees, and fell back, lying flat on the roof. She panted lightly as the pain slowly began to wane, as quickly as it had come, and as she gripped the shingles beneath her, it became nothing more than a shuddering memory, just like all the other times.

As she lay there, eyes closed, and nearing sleep, a strange sound caught her attention. She sat up slowly, careful not to move too quickly or else risk another spasm, and crawled toward the edge. Gripping the edge of the roof firmly, she leaned over, and peered underneath, into her Aunt's workroom.

She had never been allowed inside the room, nor allowed even a glimpse of what lay inside, but tonight the giant doors had been opened, and she was given a clear view of the room.

She nearly lost her grip when her eyes came to focus, the bright torchlight temporarily blinding her. Her Aunt and the weird little man were standing at the hooves of an enormous metal statue of a bull. It was gargantuan, probably close to three stories tall at the massive humped shoulders.

Her Aunt and the man were talking, she could see that, but she was too far away to hear anything. Their backs were to her too, making it impossible to read their lips.

The strange little man reached toward the statue, and fiddled with something near the rounded joint on the closest leg.

Nothing happened, nothing changed, and her Aunt did not seem happy about that. The man turned, looking over his shoulder with a sheepish grin, and shrugged to her Aunt.

She lost interest, and pulled back onto the roof. What her Aunt could possibly want with a giant statue was beyond her, but she was growing tired. The tight fingers of sleep were grabbing at her mind, and pulling her down like a led weight.

Her eyelids grew heavy as she laid down flat on her stomach, intent on at least taking a nap, if not sleeping the whole night there. It was then that an eardrum shattering roar ripped from inside her Aunt's workroom.

Seconds later, two sword-like horns crashed through the roof, only inches from where Charise was laying. She scrambled to her feet as the head of the giant bull statue followed, and after she had retreated to the side of the roof her bedroom was, she turned, and looked at the bull.

The once silver metal that had been its eyes now glowed malevolent red, like two flames in the dark. Steam wafted from between the metal sheets that composed its body, and light, metallic clicking and grinding sounds came from beyond.

She stood across from the monstrous contraption, frozen with fear as the thing looked in her direction. She couldn't tell if it could see her or not.

Moments later, the bull pulled back, dropping to all fours again inside the building.

There was another strange sound from inside the building, and then the bull exited, charging out into the field, toward the mountain village and sending shockwaves through the ground like a continuous earthquake…

* * *

She circled around the boy, bare feet barely making a sound on the hard stone floors, taking in every inch of his frame. Her magic had changed him somewhat, aging him to a suitable size. Thirteen it seemed, if her guess was correct, body somewhat gangly, but still compact enough for the plans she had for him.

His mop of red hair had spiked out slightly, giving him a rough appearance, as though he had already been through a fair deal, and his eyes, once amber in color, had drained, and paled, until his irises resembled nothing more than two pools of melted butter.

"Majora, you've got your prize, now I want my payment." The shadow woman growled, leaning, arms crossed, against the farthest wall of the darkened chamber. Her blood-colored eyes narrow and tired.

The woman turned her head, greenish-yellow eyes coming to rest on the shadow woman. Her upper lip curled, revealing the pointed teeth that lay beyond in a wolf-like snarl.

"Fine," she spat, sauntering away from the boy that stood in the light of the single torch that burned. "What is it you desire so badly, Lorelei?"

The shadow woman pushed her shoulder off of the wall, standing her ground as the demon-like Majora came at her. Majora strolled around Lorelei, curling around her like a snake would wind around a mouse, squeezing it to its slow and painful death.

"I want power."

Majora continued in her circling motion, her face twitching subtly toward interest.

"Power…you want power," she hissed, testing the way the words rolled off of her tongue. "What kind of power do you seek?"

Lorelei watched her as she swung around behind her again and again, head never moving, only her eyes followed the demon-like woman. She remained silent, not answering Majora's question.

The demoness waited, also in silence, the only sound that came from the chamber now was the gentle padding of bare feet on the floor. And for the first time, Majora stopped circling, stopped directly in front of Lorelei, and locked eyes with the shadow.

To anyone other than the two women, it would have seemed like nothing more than Majora waiting for an answer, but in all hidden truths, a mental war was being waged. Subtly, Lorelei began to sweat as her arguments were ruthlessly laid to waste, and within seconds, she had lost.

"I want bring back the dead." She uttered in a low, murmuring tone. Majora's head tipped slightly to one side, green-rimmed eyes narrowing to mere slits. Seconds later, a brutal, half-crazed laugh erupted from her throat, forcing her head back.

"So, you wish to resurrect the dead. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but even I, the great Majora, cannot bestow that kind of power."

A cruel look crossed Lorelei's face.

"Oh? I thought it was you who told me you were the most powerful being to walk the earth." She said venomously, smirking when Majora's expression twitched again, this time in annoyance.

"There are still the gods, unfortunately," Majora muttered, a different, strangely reminiscent look coming to pull at her features. "It is not impossible, I suppose. There was once a great deity that walked the earth, and this deity could bring back those who he judged had died unjustly. He was called a Fierce Deity. But one day, he came to call upon my land, and I yet prevailed to mortally injure him."

The demoness sauntered back toward the boy, running her slender fingers over his shoulders.

"To preserve his powers, he decided to shed his divinity, and disappeared without a trace. It was said that his soul would lie in wait, until a human worthy of his power would come along, and that then his powers would be passed on to said human."

Majora turned, and gave Lorelei an evil look.

"That human is currently in the northern mountains. If you wish to bring back the dead, then you must kill the man, and infuse your blood with his."

Lorelei looked toward to farthest corner of the chamber.

"Chesed!" She called, giving a beckoning motion with her hand. In an instant, the younger male strode out of the shadows, and bowed his head as he approached.

"Go the northern mountains, find him, lead him into the mists. And bring him to me," she leaned in close to him, licking her lips, eyes burning. "Alive. I want to see him bleed…"


	8. Never Look Back

**K'ger: Ok. My writing streak has official died. This chapter turned to be kind of a...female dog...about coming out right. I don't know what happened, one week I was writing like crazy, finishing a 3,500 word chapter in a night, and now it took me a week.**

**I'm still kind of...eh...about this chapter. But if I don't publish this, i'll never get moving on with the plot.**

* * *

Never Look Back

* * *

The wagon came to a shuttering stop. Shaking the warm, tender grip of sleep, Benjamin opened his green eyes, eyelids refusing to open completely as he looked groggily toward the only window.

Even with the blurriness of newly woken eyes, he could see the first fingers of sunlight dappling the soft cerulean sky, a few thin white clouds lazily retreating in either direction, escaping the tendrils of brighter light. He blinked the blurriness away, his mind snapping into motion. The caravan should have kept moving far past dawn, most likely well into midday. And yet here they were, stopped just as the sun was beginning to rise.

He could hear voices outside. The sounded tense, like they were shouting at someone or something. He would have stood up, looked out the window to see what was happening, but Annalise was peacefully asleep, wedged against his side with her head resting on his shoulder. He didn't want to wake her.

So instead, he turned his head, one cheek against the wall as he strained his ears to hear.

"Who are you?" Once voice, a woman, called from in front of the wagon. It sounded like Mistress Fala.

No answer.

"Let us pass." She said, more commandingly.

Silence.

He jolted when there was a scream, and seconds later, the sound of someone hitting the ground. Angered cries followed, ones of outrage and protest. The wagon shook slightly as the horses that were hitched to it backed up, haunches bumping up against the wagon seat.

Soft, nervous whinnies came from outside. Another sound met his ears, a strange, low rumbling sound, almost like a growl. A beast-like growl that slowly grew louder, accompanied by the padding of large feet.

Breathing. He could hear breathing. Hot, heavy breathing, like the panting of a dog when it was too hot outside. Whatever it was, it was just outside the wagon. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulder.

She gave a soft moan, her eyes fluttering open as he disrupted her.

"…Benji?" She uttered in a small, sleep-groggy voice, lifting her head up a few inches from his shoulder. He shushed her, putting a finger to his lips, and held her tightly against his side, still listening to the panting, rumbling sounds behind them.

"…Benji…what's wrong-?!" Her voice was cut off forcefully when the sound of splitting wood met both of their ears. Shouting, Benji pushed against the wall, catapulting him and his sister away from the side of the wagon seconds before razor-sharp claws came ripping through the flimsy wood.

A shrill scream came from his sister's throat as she looked past him, toward the outside. He looked over his shoulder, and tightened his grip even further on Annalise as he found himself staring into the maw of what looked to be a huge dog. A fleshy pink tongue was lodged tightly between two sets of yellowing fangs that glistened with saliva, and as another savage growl rumbled from the beast's throat, a few droplets of froth splattered onto their faces.

He could feel Annalise stiffen against him as two more of the beasts peered into the wagon, almost identical to the one that was growling so fiercely at them. The beasts really did resemble giant dogs, with midnight-black coats that shone with greenish-purple highlights like the feathers of a raven. They were easily the size of a horse, with massive paws, ending in long, wicked claws that left deep marks in the wooden floors.

Annalise was frozen against him as the three giant wolf-dogs' closed their mouths upon seeing her. Their ears pricked upright, hackles slowly lowering to lay flat on their thick necks.

The first wolf-dog leaned in close, hot, acrid breath ghosting over both their faces, and sniffed at Annalise, taking in her scent. The others' followed suit, sniffing the two of them with short, stuttering breaths. Seconds later, all three of the beasts' threw back their heads and howled.

"Benji! What are they?" Annalise whined, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Looking up at the beasts', it was then that he realized that there were people seated atop their backs. Three tall men, all with hair as black as the beasts' they rode and eyes the shade of blood. The man that rode the first of the beasts was by far the youngest, only a few years older than them if he was guessing correctly.

His face was angular, and refined, with a strong jaw and thin, arching eyebrows that were kept low over his crimson eyes. His clothes were simple, a gray tunic, under which a layer of chain mail rested, protecting his core.

Benji threw the man a harsh, threatening glare, hoping to keep him at bay. But instead, received nothing more than a pitying smirk. The man closed his eyes for a moment, his head shaking slightly to either side in a tired expression, before lifting a hand from his mount's shoulders, holding it, palm toward them for a moment before pointing two fingers toward Annalise.

Annalise screamed again when the beast lunged forward, fangs snapping. Benji rolled out of the way, and unable to stop itself, the beast let loose a yelp of uncertainty and anger as it crashed headfirst through the other side of the wagon, landing painfully on its shoulder and sending its rider flying.

"You little-!" The man growled, watching without even a chance to act as Benji pulled himself and his sister up, and dashed out of the hole in the wall that the creature had made, dodging as one of them lunged at him.

Making sure she was on her feet, he pushed Annalise away. The caravan had stopped on the edge of a small patch of fir trees, with green, leafy bows that clawed at the sky. Beyond that, he could faintly see a sparkling blue, darker in hue than the sky. The ocean.

"Annalise! Go!" He shouted, head whipping back toward the ripped open wagon, seeing that the other two beasts' had crawled through, and were stalking toward them. She automatically clutched her hands over her heart, and a unsure, frightened look spread across her delicate features.

"B-but…"

"But nothing! Go! Run! Get out of here!" he put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her toward the patch of trees. "Now!"

One of the beasts' leapt at them, forcing a grunt from Benji as its claws ripped into his shoulder. Annalise staggered back a few feet, eyes widening as her mind failed to comprehend as her brother gasped, falling to the ground before her feet, huge red marks appearing underneath the rough fabric of his shirt.

She stayed completely, frozenly still as the three beasts stepped to where her brother was laying, sniffing at his wounds. Just as it looked like one of the beasts' was about to snap at him, she threw her hands down to her sides, balling them up into fists.

A strange mixture of hidden emotions immediately came to a rolling boil inside her, sending her heart rate spiraling upward, and her mind racing with a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"G-get away f-from my brother." She said softly not meeting the three men's gazes.

The first one, the one that her brother had glared at, gave another smirk. "What was that, little mouse?"

"I said g-get away from my brother!" She said, a little louder. The three men started to laugh.

"Did you hear that, boys? The little mouse wants us to stay away from her precious big brother!"

Annalise began to fume, hands shaking violently at her sides. Something suddenly snapped in her mind, like a switch had been flipped.

"I SAID GET AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!" She screamed, making her throat hoarse as the sound ripped from her voice box. She raised her palms, eyes clouding over, turning a milky blue, like those of a blind dog, unfocused and unseeing. The atmosphere around the group seemed to thicken, and a dark purple energy pulsed around her hands.

The giant wolf-dogs and their riders were sent flying as a massive throb of blackish purple energy sliced through the air, radiating around Annalise. As the beasts dragged themselves shakily to their paws, riders still clinging to their fur, she pointed both hands at them, breathing becoming ragged.

Snarling, the beasts' attempted to lunge at her again, only to be thrown back by another blast of strange energy.

Benji painfully looked up from the ground, to see his sister standing over him, dazed and surrendering to the beast that slumbered inside of her.

Damn.

He rose to his feet, holding a hand to his side. Annalise glanced at him, as if her eyes were seeing two different pictures at the same time. A dribble of blood escaped his lips, trailing down his chin and dropping onto his chest as he stared at her.

The energy field dropped completely, her eyes remaining the milky, whitish-blue. Her hands fell limp to her sides as she stared back at him, uncomprehending.

"Anna." He whispered hoarsely, reaching out a touching her wrist with his free hand. She recoiled away from his touch, an animalistic growl coming from deep inside her throat. She jerked her head away, refusing to look into his eyes.

"Anna, look at me." He coerced. Only another growl answered him, and with a slight tip of her head, she bolted, racing toward the sparkling blue ocean in the distance.

With the dark energy from Annalise gone, the wolf-dogs' rose to their feet again, snarling at him.

He didn't give them a chance to attack, and instead, sped after his sister, yelling. "Stay away from my sister! She's not one of you!"

He followed her through the thicket of massive pine trees, and down a steep, grassy decline that led to the ocean shore. Crystalline water washed across the fine, dust-like white sand, ebbing on the shoreline, hungrily eating up the ground, before losing the battle and retreating to its home, deep and a thick, Prussian blue.

Across the sand, leading off out of sight, was a single trail of petite footprints. His sister's footprints.

He sped down the beach, eyes completely focused on the trail, not noticing as the wolf-dogs slunk stealthily down the hillside after him, paws making not even the slightest sound on the sand.

The trail of footprints led far down the beach. It was amazing how fast she could travel when she wanted to. Upon passing under a strange rock formation that arched over the beach, he found himself entering a darkened, grassy cove. Seawater flowed in from a narrow inlet in the cave-like walls, pooling near the opposite side of the cove.

He sighed in relief when his eyes came to rest on a small human shape standing near the water's edge. Annalise was standing there, looking down at the water as if hypnotized.

Walking toward her, the younger girl didn't even notice as he approached, still staring into the deepest portion of water. In the midst of swirling kelp and seashells, a crumpled shape was laying, tangled in what looked to be a fisherman's net.

But he did not expect Annalise to suddenly emit a small, shuddering gasp, staggering on her feet for a moment before burying her face in his shoulder. He looked down at her, shocked, before realizing why. From the crumpled shape in the water, red liquid was bubbling up to the surface, spreading out and threatening to cloud the entire pool.

Blood.

One of Annalise's many, many fears.

He carefully pulled himself from her grip, and taking a breath, waded into the water, swimming out until he was just over the shape, then diving in. He paddled down about eight feet, till he reached the shape, and quickly turned it over, finding that it had a vaguely human shape.

It was a Zora. Its skin was a light, cerulean blue, with spiraling blue and red tattoos all over its body, tangled incomprehensibly in the net and bleeding from a deep, ragged gash in its side. Grabbing it by the net, he pushed his feet against the sandy floor, and dragged the injured Zora with him to the surface.

Annalise jumped away from him as he dragged the Zora ashore, leaving behind a trail of crimson. Once the Zora was out of the water, Benji quickly set to work untangling him, well, he assumed it was a him, and for . Stealing an occasional glance, he also found that the wound on his side was quite deep, mortally deep. He wouldn't be able to fix such a wound.

The Zora was dying.

The best he could do was to make him as comfortable as possible. It was the least he could do. It was one of his fatal flaws, deep inside his gut, he felt a severe need to protect and comfort everyone, which, could easily get him in a lot of trouble.

He gingerly pulled the netting away from the Zora's body, listening as a pained gasp shuddered from his mouth, the ropes having been firmly lodged in his wounded flesh. As he reached for the final bit of net, he himself gasped slightly when two cold, scaled hands grabbed a hold of his wrist.

Benji looked toward the Zora's face, and watched as the creature's liquid black eyes cracked open, swirling with an aura of worry and despair.

"Please…" The Zora uttered shakily, voice hoarse and raspy.

Annalise stared at him, wide eyed, mind not fully processing what was happening.

"Please…Please help her…" He said, head tipping to one side, toward the pool of water, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of some imaginary creature.

"Help who?" Benji asked calmly, throwing the net flippantly aside and settling down on his knees beside the Zora.

"…Woman…Stole egg…Tried…G-get it back…She needs it…" He mumbled incoherently, his grip tightening on Benji's wrist. The young man shook his head softly, and carefully, he removed his wrist from the Zora's hands, taking a closer look at the wound. It looked like a sword of some kind had made it.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." He said, eyes narrowing as a bird from outside the cove squawked loudly. He had paid the bird, a seagull, little attention as he had passed, merely a passing glance as he walked, barely noticing as it sat, contented, in a tuft of grass.

But now it was making a ruckus, squalling, the fluttering of angry wings meeting their ears. Seconds later, three black-coated beasts' leapt through the natural archway, mouths open wide and fearsome snarls coming from deep in their throats.

Annalise, now completely back to her usual self, squeaked and dashed over to kneel behind her brother, hiding her face in the crook of his arm. The Zora turned his head to the other side, and saw the three wolf-dogs stalking toward them.

"…T-those beasts…She rode one of them…Please…Go to t-the Great Bay Temple…Please…It's h-her only hope…"

The wolf-dogs stalked ever closer, a bit of frothy saliva dripping from their half-open mouths. Looking down, Benji found that the Zora's eyes had closed, and discreetly pressing a finger to the side of his neck, felt no pulse, no breathing. He had passed.

"Boy, you can't escape, we have you cornered," the youngest man spat from atop the beast as Benji stood, pulling his sister up with him. "So why don't you just surrender her? She's obviously beyond your control."

He backed away slowly, Annalise giving a soft protest as they both stepped into the shallow water.

"She's my sister, and I promised my mother that I would protect her. No matter what. So leave us alone!" And with that, he leapt backwards, ignoring his sister's desperate scream as they both plunged into the water. The wolf-dogs lunged, only to miss them by inches, a safe barrier of water between them and the monsters.

A plume of bubbles escaped Annalise's mouth as they sunk to the bottom, her scream muffled by the water. He quickly reached for her, plastering a hand over her mouth so that she wouldn't swallow any of the salty water, and using his other hand, pushed them both toward the narrow inlet.

It was extremely small, barely wide enough for him to fit through, and as he slowly dragged himself through the narrow, tunnel-like area, his lungs began to burn. In all truths, he wasn't a very good swimmer at all. The last time he could remember swimming was over ten years ago, in a lake with his sister when they had still both been children.

His cheeks puffed up as his lungs ached for more air. A pounding headache formed in the back of his skull as a lack of oxygen started to take its toll. He was almost out of the tunnel, almost to freedom, almost able to breath again when he felt Annalise go limp in his arms, dragging him suddenly down to the ocean floor again.

"Anna-!" He sputtered, realizing a second too late that he had let go of his breath, water quickly flooded his lungs, stinging his throat the entire way down.

No, I'm not going to drown!

He pushed against the sandy floor, kicking wildly, flailing, trying desperately to drag both his weight and his sister's weight to the surface. He made it about halfway, his vision ebbing in black, before his strength faltered, his grip loosening, and Annalise's limp form slipped from his arms, sinking yet again.

But his mind was full of fog, he could barely notice that Annalise had slipped, and slowly, he too began to sink.

The last thing he felt was something warm and smooth, like a hand, grabbing at the ratty, tattered collar of his shirt before he slowly slipped out of consciousness…

* * *

Among the wreckage, a thin, shorter young woman walked, stepping carefully with her bare feet as to not injure herself on the sharp rubble. Her black hair was kept up, out of her eyes in a loose, slightly disheveled bun, and as she stepped over the bodies of those who had not escaped the wrath of the metal demon, her knee length white dress flowed around her in the foul-scented wind.

But as she looked through the rubble, eyes emotionless and cold, she stopped, looking at one person who had yet survived.

She approached carefully, quietly. The woman was holding a broken spear in one hand, a pitchfork in the other, and her head whipped toward her as she came close, a dangerous look plastered on her face.

Seeing the young girl, her look softened slightly, but her grip remained firm on her weapons.

"You're that demon's niece, aren't you?" The woman asked, a dangerous tone to her voice.

"Yes, but I'm not like her."

"And how am I supposed to believe you? This could all be a trap. She could have told you to say that."

The young girl dipped her head slightly, bangs coming to obscure her eyes.

"Yes, she could have. But she didn't. You're right, I'm Charise, Mistress Eshana's niece. I'm sorry she did this to your village."

A pause followed, neither of the women knowing what to say, or if to believe what the other had said. After a moment, Charise turned.

"Young lady? Are you going to back to that woman?"

Charise stopped dead in her tracks, but did not turn to look at Selia, the village matriarch.

"No. I'm never looking back…"


	9. A Terrible Fate

**K'ger: Yay! I'm back again! I updated! WOO!**

**Ok, first, I'd like to thank Link'sLily for the last review, which, even though you call it vague, was really encouraging! I think it got me through the rough patch I was having.**

**So here I'd like to shout out to you! Check out her AWESOME story, According to Legend. It really doesn't get the attention it needs, and she's really just an amazing friend!**

**Btw, the bottom A/N is REALLY IMPORTANT! READ IT!**

* * *

A Terrible Fate

* * *

Darkness. He was surrounded by it. Although he was obviously in a spacious chamber, _where_ he was completely bewildered him. The lack of light caused him to squint, hurting his eyes as he tried to see more clearly. For some reason, he was barefoot, and the floor was cold beneath him, freezing actually.

He moved his weight from foot to foot as his mind raced. How had he gotten here? Why was he here? His mind was utterly blank, clouded by a strange feeling, a lingering fear that had started small, a few nervous twitches, and had grown and grown until it was now an all encompassing terror. Why? Did was he afraid?

He clamped his eyes shut, breathing deep through his nose, pushing the fear away, or at least trying to.

A cold hand touched his shoulder, slender, icy fingers grabbing the collar of the olive green tunic he was wearing. Long, pointed nails scratched gently against his the now drum-tight skin of his neck, as his head whipped toward the stranger. He was met with two glowing amber eyes, edged in green and pupils occasionally flickering crimson. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see that it was a woman, her face slightly resembling the shape of a heart, with a pointed chin and eyes too large in proportion.

Underneath her eyes, red, swirling, tribal tattoos rested atop her prominent cheekbones, and when she smiled arrogantly at him, revealed the yellow, fang-like teeth that lay hidden behind her ruby-red lips.

He stiffened underneath her touch, and glared at the woman.

He tried to pull away from her, and gain his personal space yet again, but her grip remained firm on the collar, fingernails scratching a little harder when he tried to escape.

"What's the matter, boy?" she hissed, leaning in so close that her lips brushed against his ear. "Are you afraid?"

He set his eyes straight ahead of him, refusing to meet her gaze as she curled around him, trying to force him. When she stopped to stand directly in front of him, he closed his eyes, yet again refusing. He could hear her striding carefully around him, and flinched when her hand came to rest on the nape of his neck.

"Did you really think you could defeat me this easily? Did you think me a fool?"

An eerie silence followed, and a shiver involuntarily ran up his spine as he felt the woman's hand trail up the side of his neck, and she began to run her fingers along the edge of his notched ear.

A faint sound slowly worked its way into his mind. It was a strange sound, familiar, but too far away for him to recognize.

"Do you hear that?" the woman cooed mockingly in his ear, reaching up and playing with a few strands of his hair. He ignored her, keeping his eyes closed, trying to let his mind wander away. "Don't you want to see?"

The sound grew louder, and all of his weight suddenly dropped into his stomach, unknowingly sinking down a few inches. The color drained completely from his face as the sound became as clear as a bell and as familiar as the song of a bird.

Children.

_His _children. They were crying.

His eyes snapped open without a second thought, his heart jumping into his throat. Light blinded him, not having expected the brightness that flooded his unadjusted eyes. He blinked heavily, trying to regain his vision.

They were somehow, suddenly standing at the lowest point of a deep ravine. Rust colored walls boxed them in on either side, and the ground beneath them was dry and cracked, like it hadn't rained in years. The sky was a dull shade of gray, and yet there was not a cloud in the sky, puzzling him.

He wasn't allowed the time to ponder this though, for the entire world became unimportant as his sapphire blue eyes locked onto the two crumpled shapes about thirty feet away.

Kara and Rinku were sitting on the ground, the little girl hiding her face against her knees, and sobbing as if her heart had literally been shattered. Rinku still had his face visible, and slowly, tears dripping from his cheeks as well, he rubbed Kara's back.

Then he noticed why they were both crying, and he felt like he was going to collapse. A few feet past them, Jack, McKenna, Malon and a dark haired man he did not recognize were lying, dead, on the ground.

"Did you not see this coming? How foolish!" The woman laughed, loudly into his ear. Completely out of instinct, and a bit startled, Link spun around, reaching toward his belt. A few seconds later he realized there was no sword strapped there, as his hands grabbed repeatedly at thin air.

Giving a slight, inhuman snarl, teeth flashing, the woman leapt at him, pushing him to the ground and slamming her knee forcefully into his gut. He gasped as her knee threatened to crush his organs, and his head was knocked painfully against the hard, parched ground.

The woman withdrew her knee, and instead knelt on his chest, sneering at his startled face.

She drew a long, jagged-edged dagger from a sheath attached to her lower calf, and pressed it firm against the skin of his neck.

"Now, what should I do with you? Maybe I'll just slit your throat, that's probably the simplest way," she mused, moving the dagger away from his neck, and instead resting it on his chest, sharpened tip pressing vertical over his heart. "But certainly not the most painful."

She looked straight out over him, amber, green and red eyes clouding over in thought. Slowly, her lips curled into a malicious, insane grin as an idea seemed to strike her.

"I know! How about I cut your heart clean out?"

She jabbed her dagger down, plunging it directly into his heart…

* * *

"Boy! Wake up! You've overslept!"

Link woke suddenly, letting out a surprised growl when a steel-toed boot connected with his ribs. He sidled away from the looming figure of Zepora, and rose with a shuddering sigh, his ribs protesting quite loudly in the his ears. It had all been a dream...right?

'That's going to leave a mark.' He thought ruefully, absently rubbing a hand to the injured side as Zepora scoffed impatiently.

"You overslept, and if you don't hurry, we're all going to be late!" he growled exasperatedly, making extravagant, exaggerated motions with his calloused hands. "Go saddle those damned horses! And be snappy about it!"

He jumped quickly away before the angered little man could take another swipe, and strode away from the skimpy pile of straw he had been allowed to sleep on. His bones creaked softly as he walked the first few steps. It had been a long time since he hadn't had a bed to sleep on, over six years if his timekeeping was accurate. And the fact that he was quickly nearing thirty didn't help either.

Down the stable isle, three horses groggily swung their heads over their stall doors at the ruckus, two of them being the horses that had pulled the carriage. The other was obviously a stallion, gray in color, with a rich black mane that hung well down to his chest and an expressive, angular face, on which his shocking, electric blue eyes peered toward him, as if daring him to make a move.

"Have fun with that one! Might want to count your fingers after you saddle him!" Zepora barked, leaving the barn with a quick jerk to his step.

Watching the shorter man leave, he took a breath before moving down the isle, remaining completely silent as he approached the stallion. The gray stallion gave a warning toss of his head as he approached, and when Link reached for the stall door, the stallion lunged, teeth snapping.

The horse's teeth snapped down on the skin of his arm, and clamped down, painfully threatening to crush his bones. But he stood completely still, looking into the stallion's aggressive blue eyes.

"Calm down," he whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The stallion's jaw loosened slightly, before pulling away, backing deep into the stall. He unlatched the door, swinging it quietly open and stepping inside.

"Easy now, everything's alright." He reached out, making sure not to flinch as the stallion half-heartedly snapped again, but did not actually bite. Moments later, his fingers brushed against the stallion's smooth, silkily furred muzzle.

"You're alright."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, he exited the stable with a smooth smirk on his face as the three horses followed behind. He struggled desperately to hold in a laugh when Zepora yelped, not expecting him to saddle the horses so easily, or to escape with all of his fingers, and Mistress Eshana's angular features for the first time curled into a look that almost resembled respect, as the stallion's reins were silently passed to her hand.

Zepora forcefully ripped the reins of the two older mares' out of his hands, eliciting startled snorts from the horses as the were drug away from the calmer, friendlier man. He watched, slightly sad for the horses, as the short, and short-tempered man swung onto one, immediately striking it with a crop, and the gargantuan brute of Gepora swung onto the other.

"Boy, get a move on! You're going to make us get behind schedule!" Zepora snapped, urging his horse into a shaky trot.

With a roll of his eyes, Link started out at a run, catching up quickly with the three horses as they trotted away from the mountain Smithy, and down the grassy hillside that served as the main flow of travel back toward the heart of Termina.

The path wound through a thick mountain forest, the trees being so tall one had to crane one's head back to see the tops. It was a dark forest, thick bows clouding out most of the sun, only the brightest rays breaking through the thickly needled branches and dappling the mossy ground beneath their feet. The horses hooves made very little sound on the soft ground, and left large round indentions in the moss as they walked.

To the left side, Link suddenly threw his head to the side when a strange sound caught his interest. It sounded like the rustling of a bush, and then a mumbling, a curse uttered under someone's breath.

In this moment of inattention, the horses had abruptly stopped, and it was the best he could to swing his arms wide in an attempt to stop himself before he bumped into one of their haunches.

Mistress Eshana was sitting perfectly still atop her stallion, looking at the forked road ahead as if she could see everything, and yet nothing at all, while Zepora had his nose buried in a map. Gepora just sat there, useless, with his hulking arms limp at his sides.

He looked at the path behind him, the open field still faintly visible if he looked at the right angle. He glanced back toward the group, now Zepora and Gepora were arguing over which path to take, Zepora's voice cutting through the air like a knife, while Gepora's voice smothered that of the smaller man.

They were completely ignoring him.

He could make a run for it.

The very thought sent his heart rate spiraling. He could get away. He could be free again. But what pushed his heart rate even higher was the thought that he'd actually see Malon and the kids again.

He stole a final glance at the group, and then started quietly back up path they had just come down.

"Psst-!"

He stopped short, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He whipped his head again toward the left. The roadside brambles rustled, and then a hand appeared, making a beckoning motion again and again.

"Psst-! Boy! Over here!"

Link looked toward the group again, and then made his way over to the bush. He choked back a cry when another hand shot out from the brambles, and both hands grabbed him by the shirt. He was dragged into the bushes.

The hands belonged to a shorter man, with a comical, narrowed eyed look on his otherwise bony face. His honey-brown hair was combed carefully to one side, and his eyes seldom opened, as his grip remained firm on Link's shirt.

Finally letting go, the strange little man began to wring his hands, rubbing his palms together in an obsessive manner. He was back was hunched over, nearly bent in half by the humongous pack on his back, strewn across the back of the pack, a wide array of strange, tribe-like masks hung.

Some resembled those of animals, like pigs, or frogs, or rabbits. And yet others resembled nothing he had ever seen, like one of the masks, red, with black, spiraling marks underneath where one would peer through.

He stood there awkwardly as the shorter man looked him over from head to toe.

"Uh-?" He said softly, reaching up with one hand and rubbing the back of his neck. The strange little man, who waved a finger at him, shaking his head vigorously, quickly shushed him, preventing him from speaking any further.

"No, no, don't pollute the air with meaningless jabber," he chirped in a singsong kind of voice, high and slightly feminine. His face quickly fell to be more somber and slightly grim, however, as his barely-open eyes came to rest on the swirling black tattoo that stood, dominant on the skin of his neck. "You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?"

* * *

**K'ger: Welp, there you go, the last single digit chapter! Next one is #10! So to celebrate that I've made it that far, and that it was around this time in SIG that I did this, I"M HAVING ANOTHER CONTEST!**

**Yet again, its going to be a Zelda Trivia contest, and whoever gets it right gets to design an OC.**

**Here are the rules.**

**Answer in a review or PM, either way works for me.**

**Find the answer in any way works for you, after all, I can't see you!**

**If you enter, you must be open to PM-ing, that's how I'm going to get the info I need!**

**This contest ends on Monday February 1st.**

**First place: Design an OC for Stay With Me.**

**Second place: A shout out!**

**Here's the question:**

**In Twilight Princess, what Sage did Ganondorf kill before he was banished to the Twilight Realm?**

**Have fun!**


	10. Horsemen & Delivery Statements

**K'ger: And now, to announce the winner of the trivia contest! (yes, I know its early, but no one's participating anyway, so there!)**

**The winner is...**

***Drumroll!***

**Courage of Awesome! Her character will be appearing in the next chapter! I can't wait! Thank you very much for reading, reviewing, fav-ing and being a very nice person! You don't know how much your support has meant recently!**

**Second place goes to Link'sLily, who didn't know the answer, but actually responded, unlike everyone else! Everyone should check out her stories! They're all great!**

* * *

Horsemen &amp; Delivery Statements

* * *

"Is there any way I can help?" Malon asked, padding gently down the stairs of her brother-in-law's house. Cyrus, brown-haired and as gentle-faced as an old deer, looked up from his pile of paperwork, dark bags under his eyes being extenuated by the dim, flickering candlelight.

He sighed, putting his quill back into the bottle of ink, and leaned back in his wooden chair, head lolling back limply.

"I don't know. That damned mayor of Clock Town extended the city limits, so now our taxes are double, if not triple, of what they used to be, and our horses have both gone lame, so I can't even deliver enough milk to pay for a quarter of it!"

She looked out of one of the windows, and watched as Epona, Cerus and the filly, sadly still unnamed, all grazed in the new morning sunlight, flicking their tails occasionally in the new morning dew.

"We could deliver it." She said softly, not turning to look at Cyrus. As it turned out, her voice had been too low for his tired ears to hear.

"What?" He asked, leaning his head to one side to look at her. She turned away from the window, a determined look on her face.

"We can deliver the milk. Epona is strong and healthy, and it would help make a little money, right?" She said, louder, enthusiasm slowly working into her tone for the first time since she had set foot on her sister's property.

Cyrus sat up a little straighter in his chair, and looked at her with a curious glint to his eyes, obviously thinking over her proposition. They both fell silent, Malon returning her gaze to the window, and Cyrus leaning back toward the paperwork, reaching for the quill.

The quiet scratching sound of pen against paper came yet again from his desk, and, although she had her head toward the window, Malon occasionally stole a glance at her brother-in-law. It seemed like an hour before his paperwork was complete, and he finally stood from his chair. The sun had risen up further, shadows creeping quickly out of sight as the light flooded down on the grassy hill.

She started slightly when his hand came to rest on her shoulder, and when she looked toward him, saw a strangely optimistic look on his face.

"That'd be a huge help." He whispered before walking away, tiredly up the stairs toward his bedroom…

* * *

Kara and Rinku bounded down the stairs, fits of giggles music to Malon's ears as she planned the trip. It would take around a day both ways, with time to drop off the milk, collect the payment, and a special stop on the way that she had decided was necessary. She looked up from the delivery paper, and watched as both children raced down the last few steps and dashed, barefoot, across the hardwood floors toward her.

"Mommy!" Kara cried, scrabbling onto her lap and looking at her excitedly. "Mommy, can we come with you on the trip?"

Malon's smile softened slightly.

"Well, I don't think so, at least not this time, I think you'd be better off here with your Uncle Cyrus and Romani."

Kara and Rinku's faces fell dramatically upon her words, disappointment evident in their eyes.

"But Mommy! We wanna see Clock Town!" The little girl insisted, lips curling into an upset pout. Malon ruffled Kara's hair softly, and placed her on the floor so that she could stand up.

"We can take a special trip later, ok?"

"Promise?"

A gentle smile tugged at Malon's lips as the little girl stubbornly insisted on what she wanted. Just like her father.

"Promise."

Kara looked a little happier at the thought, and relinquished her mother from her begging, taking her little brother by the hand and practically dragging him toward where the few toys they had brought with them were kept, in a bag near the door.

They, in truth, didn't have many toys as it was. Link and Malon were, by no means, rich. They made enough to keep food on the table, clothes on their backs' and taxes paid, but that just about exhausted their funds, making the purchase of less necessary items a rare occasion. However, Link being the man he was, couldn't stand for his children being under cared for, and had come up with a, as he called it, "genius solution" to their predicament.

He made the toys himself. As it turned out, he had a hidden talent for woodworking, and with a few leftover pieces of firewood he had managed to scrape together, he had crafted the toys they cherished, and insisted they bring with them.

She folded the paperwork Cyrus had given her, stuffing it carefully with a crinkling of paper into a small leather satchel and smoothed her dress, sighing with slight nerves and anticipation of her trip. She had a very good reason for wanting not to bring Kara and Rinku with her, and that very reason was making her nervous.

A few mere moments later, Jack and McKenna came plodding tiredly down the stairs, Jack with his arm draped over McKenna's shoulders and her leaning against him, as if using him for support. Jack's hair was heavily mussed, sticking up in gravity-defying ways, and as Malon looked closer at his face, saw a faint glistening on his lower lip and chin, obviously having drooled in his sleep. McKenna was just as bad. Her hair was tangled in a rats' nest of brown strands, and underneath her eyes, large black half-moons were swept across her usually porcelain-like skin.

"Good, you two are up. Its time to get going." Malon said, approaching them. The couple stopped short when her words sank in, and bewildered looks curled across their features.

"…Go? Go where?" Jack questioned in a groggy, half-asleep voice. McKenna yawned against him, and rubbed a hand over her eyes, trying to clear her vision of the sleepy blurriness.

"We're delivering milk to Clock Town for Cyrus." She answered, heading toward the front door. Turning the doorknob, she was just about to step outside when Jack made another incomprehensible sound.

"W-why are we delivering it? Shouldn't that be, oh, I don't know, Cyrus's job?"

She stopped short, and turned to look at him.

"Because both of his horses are unhealthy, and Epona is the only one who can pull a wagon right now." And with that, she strode out of the house.

The sun had risen even further into the sky, but that didn't change the fact that a strange, foreboding aura was worming into the back of her mind as she walked across the grass, heading for the barn where Cyrus was hitching Epona to a small wagon.

It was a strange feeling. Something wasn't right, something she couldn't place. And then she realized what was wrong. There was no wind. The air was completely still, as if time itself had stopped, and one was walking through a thick, cloying mist.

Epona gave a slight shake of her head as Malon approached, the harness that were slung over her thick frame clinking as the metal buckles bumped against her. Once she reached the mare, she ran a hand over her thick, velvety brown muzzle, gentle fingers lacing trough the mare's white mane.

"She's all set." Cyrus said from behind the wagon, obviously hefting a crate of milk bottles into the cart, as it shuddered slightly.

She walked around the wagon, to see as her brother-in-law lifted yet another crate into the wagon. She peered inside, seeing that there were ten crates in total. Near the front, there was just enough space for Jack and McKenna to ride.

"Ok, so, you have two stops to make," he started, making a few gestures with his hands as she listened intently to his directions. "Eight of these crates are for the Milk Bar. Now, when you enter Clock Town, one of the guards is going to stop you. They're going to inspect the wagon, ask a couple of questions, and require a delivery statement. That's the paperwork I gave you. You'll need that to get in.

"After that, you're going to want to make an immediate right. That path will go on for about a quarter of a mile, then make a jog to the left. After that, you'll enter a wide plaza, the Milk Bar will be directly across from you. And also, when you're going through that narrow side street? Be careful. There're nasty thugs that hang out around there. They won't think twice about harassing a lady. You're going to want to talk to a man named Damos. He runs the bar. Tell him I sent you, he'll understand."

Malon took a breath. It was a lot to remember. _Paperwork. Right. Plaza. Thugs._

He then proceeded to interrupt her thoughts, continuing onward with his lecture. "Once you deliver the eight crates they've requested, your next stop is going to be further to the left. Go straight down that street until you see a small wooden sign that says, "Stock Pot Inn". They want the other two crates. Inside you'll meet a woman named Anju. Again, tell her I sent you."

He finally finished, and Malon sighed heavily, mind reeling with the huge amount of information she had just taken in.

"You got all that?"

She nodded half-heartedly, mind still processing, and walked around the wagon when she heard the front door to the farmhouse open.

Jack and McKenna walked out into the dreary sunlight, dressed and ready to leave. When they reached the wagon, Jack wordlessly helped McKenna into the back, and followed closely behind, giving a slightly bored sigh as he sat down beside her and looked at Malon with a perturbed glare.

"What is that look for?" Malon asked, pulling herself into the front seat of the wagon and taking Epona's reins in both hands. She gave a final wave to Cyrus, and flicked the reins against Epona's back softly, urging her forward with a click of her tongue.

The wagon shuddered forward as the mare began to walk, slowly, carefully down the path.

"I don't see why we're doing this. I was looking forward to a day where I didn't have to worry about who's where and when and how."

Malon shook her head softly, and looked at the scenery around her. If she looked carefully, it almost looked like s if color itself had been drained from the world, like a painting left out in the sun too long. The world almost looked sick, like it was suffering from a terminal illness.

"You do for family, Jack. Someday, when you have kids, you'll understand."

She didn't look over her shoulder at her two companions, but if she had, she would have seen the rosy-pink color that dusted over both of their cheeks, although McKenna's blush was decidedly darker.

Jack noticed this, as the wagon rattled through the narrow valley that served as the only way in and out of the ranch, and leaned over so that her could look her directly in the eyes, a curious glint in his own deep green orbs as he took her chin into the palm of his hand.

"McKenna?" he questioned, watching with slight concern as she looked away from him, squirming underneath his intent gaze. "Is something wrong?"

"N-no. Of course not, um, why do you ask?" She responded coyly, still not meeting his eyes.

When he was about to venture further, she interrupted him.

"Um, Jack? What is that?"

She pointed toward the rear of the cart. He followed her gaze, and his muscles immediately stiffened, completely out of instinct, when his eyes came to rest on the figures of two horses and two riders following about a hundred yards behind them.

The horses were massive, easily as large as Epona, with coats of pure white, and heavily ornate bridles and saddles attached to their heads, thick, muscular chests and backs. Atop them, two thick men were seated, thick swatches of what looked to be burlap concealed their faces.

"Mal? No need to worry, but…Can this wagon go any faster?" McKenna asked, eyes completely focused on the two riders, watching as the men spurred the massive steeds into wild gallops. Malon gave a slight, nerve-wracked tilt of her head, eyes narrowing with worry.

"What's wrong?" She asked, keeping her attention on Epona.

"Well, I'd say that we have a couple of mean looking guests. Might want to speed things up a little bit." Jack added, looking at the riders. In the corner of his eye, a swatch of red fabric caught his attention, as Malon called to Epona, flicking the reins again and urging the huge copper mare into a frenzied canter. He reached for the fabric, and his eyebrows rose subtly when his muscular fingers wrapped around a long wooden object.

He pulled the object into full sight, and a smooth smirk pulled at his lips. It was an elegantly carved bow, made of fine oak wood, with intricate tooling along the handle. The string was still in fit shape to be used, and as he lifted it, found that there was also a quiver full of arrows.

Ignoring the quiet protest that McKenna gave, he rose to his feet, steadying himself as the wagon rattled onward, and notched an arrow, pulling the string tight and listening as the bow creaked in his grip.

The riders were catching up, soon only mere feet away from the rear of the wagon. So close that even Malon could hear the distinct sound of a sword being pulled from its scabbard. Seconds later there was impact, the wagon shuddering greatly and threatening to throw Jack off his feet. In the back gate of the wagon, a large chunk had been smashed free, the rider on the left brandishing a curved sword.

Jack regained his footing quickly, drawing the bowstring even tighter, till his fingers touched against his cheek. The rider pulled his arm back, aiming another strike, this time urging his horse even faster, so that he was riding alongside the wagon, right next to McKenna. It felt like a rock had been dropped directly onto his gut as the man took a swing at McKenna with the sword.

He aimed, took a breath, and as he exhaled, let the arrow fly. It flew straight, and true, and buried into shoulder of the rider. He watched with a satisfied chortle as the rider he had hit pulled back on his horse's reins, and gasped, holding a hand to where the arrow now protruded. The other rider reluctantly gave way, and pulled back as well, watching with an angry holler as the wagon hurriedly rounded a bend and disappeared.

Malon kept Epona at the swift pace for another few minutes, making sure that the pursuers had fallen behind before allowing the mare to catch her second wind, slowing to an easy, rhythmic walk. Once she was sure that Epona was on course, she let the reins fall from her hands, and turned sideways in her seat, giving Jack and McKenna a wide eyed look.

"What on Hylia's green earth was that?" She asked, slightly breathless. McKenna shook her head, complexion pale and skin pasty, and Jack dropped the bow, letting it fall to the floor as he slumped to his knees, a few beads of sweat clinging to his forehead.

"M-McKenna? Are you ok? He didn't get you, did he?" He asked in a hoarse whisper. She shook her head, apparently to stunned to use her voice, and for the next few minutes, not a one of them said a word, merely listening to the gentle clop of Epona's hooves.

As the rounded yet another bend, and the path widened out into an expanse of tall, untrimmed yellow grass, the looming silhouette of Clock Town quickly came into view, and Epona instinctually followed the dirt path that snaked between the rolling hills between them and the city, and approached the enormous stone walls that served as protection and control of those who lived within.

The southern gate was open, the two iron doors that were locked at night pushed as far in either direction as they could go. Leaning, slumped, with his head lolling forward in a doze, was a soldier. Across his leather-clad chest, the insignia of an elk mid-stride was embroidered with golden thread, and in both hands, he loosely gripped the pole of a spear.

He started awake when Epona's hooves came onto the cobbles, clattering, and the bumped over the rough, unfinished curb, the glass milk bottles shaking inside their crates. He looked around a few times, snapping his mind into motion, before his tired, watered-down blue eyes came into full focus.

"State your names and business." He said in a bored, monotone voice, looking at the wagon as it stopped with half-open lids. Jack leapt easily from the wagon, landing with a resounding thud in front of the soldier, startling him.

"Name's Jack," he laughed, thumbing his nose and jerking it toward the wagon. "And those two're McKenna and Malon."

The soldier looked at McKenna and Malon for a moment, and then returned his tired gaze to Jack.

"And what business do you have here?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "To deliver milk, duh. Can't you see the crates?"

His attitude seemed to take the soldier by surprise, and as the soldier did a double take, Jack laughed in a confidant tone, jumping back up into the wagon, muttering under his breath, "Dummy."

The soldier walked stiffly over to the side of the wagon, shooting Jack a glare as he inspected the crates, underneath the wagon, and the harnesses that attached Epona to the cart. He yelped when he came around front of Epona, and the mare lunged, snapping at his wrist and causing him to bolt back to the safety of the wall he had previously been leaning on.

"I guess everything looks alright, but I'm going to have to ask for a delivery statement. You do have a delivery statement, don't you?"

Hearing this, Malon gave a soft sound of recognition, and fumbled with the satchel that was still slung over her shoulder. Well, it had been slung over her shoulder. Now there was nothing more than an empty space beside her on the seat.

_Oh you've got to be kidding me._

She looked back toward Jack and McKenna, giving them a look that quickly turned to panic. If she thought back to when the two unknown horsemen had pursued them, she could vaguely remember the wind catching hold of her, a sudden burst pushing her hair into her eyes and blocking her vision. After that, her shoulder had suddenly felt lighter.

_Crap._

She turned back to the impatiently waiting soldier, a toothy, sheepish grin plastering across her face. He groaned, letting his head fall back, and slapped a hand against his forehead.

"Ma'am, I can't let you in without a delivery statement." He moaned, upset of having his time wasted. Malon took a breath, steadying herself, and then put on the most feminine, sultry look she could manage with a straight face.

"Sir, can't you maybe…bend the rules? Just this once? It's only a shipment of milk." She whispered, leaning toward him a little. His face immediately lost its look of boredom, being quickly replaced by utter shock. He stepped back, bumping up against the wall, skin going pale as she lowered her eyelashes.

"I-I really don't think that's something I can do M-Miss!" He stuttered, leaning harder against the wall. Malon scooted over in the seat, so that she was as close as she could get to the soldier. She ran a hand through her hair, and tilted her head down, so that she was looking up through her thick lashes.

"Are you sure? It's just one shipment." She said in a seductive pout. He sighed heavily, letting his head this time droop forward, and he pushed a hand toward the open gate.

"Yeah, fine. Go."

Malon immediately perked up, eyes opening fully again, and she winked at him as she gathered up Epona's reins, urging the mare onward with a simple word of thanks to the soldier in a friendly, everyday manner, as if her previous act had never even happened. Even the soldier started to wonder if the whole incident had been real, or just one of his dreams.

Jack and McKenna rode silently behind her, occasionally stealing dumbfounded glances at one another. Finally, as Epona followed her instructions to start down a narrow side street, it was Jack who broke the silence.

"What the hell was that?" He asked. Malon laughed softly, a gentle chuckle that barely escaped her throat as she flicked her hair.

"What? I can't persuade someone with what I've got?" She asked slyly over her shoulder. Jack squirmed unsurely from her question, looking to McKenna, who only giggled.

"Well, I mean-! You're a married woman! You don't think Link wouldn't have been upset from that little display?"

"I think that if Link was here, he would have gotten us in by his own way of persuasion."

Not even Epona noticed as two people stealthily after their wagon, feet making not a single sound on the cobblestones. They stopped near one of the dark alleyways, and greeted another person with slight nods.

"Let's go, we'll cut them off at the crossroads..."


	11. The Great Kan

**K'ger: Ok, just a couple of quick notes here:**

**#1. In this chapter, the section of Italics is a flashback.**

**#2. I've had an idea I want to test out, where I make a playlist for a chapter that you can use as a guide to listen to as you read. Obviously none of you have to do it, its up to you, but for me, music really effects me when I read, so this is just kinda something I'll try, so you can get a feel for the chapter like I do, since I listen to music when I write.**

**Dare Mo Inai Ryouriten (The Empty Restaurant) From Spirited Away.**

**Eto (Land of The Impure) From Princess Mononoke.**

**Tabidachi Nishi E (Journey to The West) Another From Princess Mononoke.**

* * *

The Great Kan

* * *

Smoke. The thin, acrid scent wafted into Benji's nose, waking him from a clinging, uncomfortable sleep. He sat up groggily, and his breath hitched when he started to yawn. His lungs felt like they were on fire, like there were a thousand tiny knives ripping at his insides. He clutched a hand over his chest and tried to smooth out his breathing, tried to breath without the pain. It was useless. They pain clung to his chest like a persistent cough.

Moments later, a thought hit him, and his head jerked around in confusion. He was alive. The last thing he remembered was the sensation of harsh, salty water filling his lungs and lulling him into unconsciousness.

After his eyes adjusted to the borderline blinding sunlight, he looked around. He was sitting on a wood plank surface, with low walls made of the same material about three feet in either direction. And then he realized what he was on. He was on a boat.

Deep, Prussian blue water sloshed at either side of the small, narrow boat, occasionally hitting it with enough force to spill over the side, and come close to soaking him completely. Toward the east, faintly in the distance, he could see a glimmer of yellow and green, what he presumed to be the shoreline. It was at least ten miles away.

Not long after realizing that he was on a boat, his stomach seemed to take that as a queue to become upset. His empty stomach slowly began to ache as he sat there, dumbfounded and unsure of what to do. And as the boat continued more toward the west, toward the endless ocean on the horizon, it slowly worsened until he felt like he was going to throw up.

He had never been one for boat travel.

The nauseous ache quickly became too much, and he it was all he could do to scrabble shakily, hands and knees to the wall, leaning, prostrate over the edge. Nothing came up, and after a few seconds, dry heaves wracked his body, making his body shudder as pitiful moans escaped his throat.

It took him several minutes more for the dry heaves to subside, and as he moaned over the low edge, his head started to pound, a severe headache taking the place of his nausea, making the veins in his forehead pulse. He imagined this was what it was like to suffer a hangover.

When he finally managed to regain control of his body, a voice spoke behind him, making him stiffen from head-to-toe.

"Can't handle a little sea travel, boy?" The voice snorted. He weakly turned his head, and found himself staring up into the cold amber eyes of a woman. Her skin was a dark, caramel-tan from hours of work in the sun, and over her chest, she wore a tight wrapping of light, emerald green. Her baggy pants shared the same hue. The way her eyes glinted gave him a bad feeling.

"Well, don't worry, you won't be on the water for too much longer," she said softly, turning and heading toward the front of the boat, were another woman like her was rowing. Had she just tried to reassure him? Maybe these people weren't so bad. "Nah, soon enough you'll be underneath it."

His eyes widened again. They were going to throw him overboard? Why would they save him from drowning, only to throw him overboard?

He looked around even more frantically as another thought came to mind. Annalise. _Had they saved her too?_ His stomach plummeted as he failed to find her. _Oh gods, had he let her drown?_ He had let her drown. He had let her drown!

He slumped back, slouching over. He had let his baby sister drown. He had flubbed his mother's only wish. He had let his baby sister drown.

* * *

_"__No!" He screamed, voice ringing eerily through the old, dark hallways. He ran toward the tall, looming silhouettes that stood outside his mother's bedroom. Their heads swiveled toward him, and they put out their hands to stop him, but he refused to give way, and pushed past them, feet pounding on the wooden floorboards. He flew through the door, and stopped short._

_It was true. His father hadn't lied. Next to the long unused bed that so many years ago his mother had read him stories in, and allowed him to sleep in next to her soothing warmth when a nightmare had wracked his young body or a storm woke him from his slumber, was a coffin._

_He tenderly stepped closer to the coffin, catching a glimpse of black hair much like his own and a smooth, caring face permanently set into the expression of sleep. He could feel his heart start to break._

_"__Benji!" A smaller, younger voice called from somewhere further down the hallways. He could barely hear her, over the thrum of blood in his ears. He merely stood there, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to think, staring into the face of death._

_"__Benji-! Help-!" The girl screamed this time, fear dripping from her voice. He was snapped back into reality, and like a machine, eyes locked into a blank stare, he turned from his mother's casket and strode out of the room, down the hallway, down a set of stairs, and into the foyer of his father's mansion. His childhood home._

_There his father stood, looming over the crumpled shape of a young girl._

_Annalise._

_His father's head jerked up upon his entrance, and an evil grin plastered across his lips. He callously stepped over Anna without a second glance, and stormed toward him, overtaking him in an instant. His breath was thick, and hot, and smelled cloyingly like alcohol. His father grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, hefting him a few inches into the air, until only his toes touched the ground._

_"'__s all yer fault," his father slurred, a few droplets of saliva flying and landing on his face. "If it weren't for you damn kids, she never would've left."_

_Pain flushed through his body as he was suddenly, violently thrown against a wall, his father slamming against his body with a barbaric cry. _

_"__Daddy! Leave him alone-!" Annalise's voice came from behind the brutal shape of his father. His father let him fall to the floor, sides screaming silently in pain. He could tell that he had cracked several ribs, as an all-consuming pain burned through his sides, abdomen and chest. He looked up, and saw that Annalise had risen to her own feet, and was staring up at their father, a mixture of fear and anger swirling in her green eyes. There was a strange metallic sound as their father fiddled with something attached to his belt._

_Annalise backed away, and realized a second too late what the sound had been. Benji surged to his feet, recklessly throwing himself in front of Annalise, and he let loose a cry as the blade of a rusted knife plunged into his shoulder._

_His sister screamed as he dropped to his knees, the knife being ripped from his shoulder with a splatter of his own blood. _

_Their father was about to lunge at Annalise, knife poised, when a strange sound came from her. It sounded slightly like the growl of a wolf, one that had been cornered. From the floor, he could hear another sound, like a scuffle, and then their father fell to the floor beside him. It took only a single look to tell that he was dead, only one look to know that Annalise had done it._

_With a large amount of effort, he stood, and faced his sister. Her eyes had clouded over, turning a milky blue with whitened pupils, blank and unfocused, as if she was blind. But she obviously could see him, as she backed away a few feet._

_Seconds later, she bolted, pushing past him and racing out of the house. He followed after her, decidedly slower in pace, and just caught a glimpse of her escaping into the darkened forest that bordered the estate…_

* * *

The wagon clattered onward, down the dark, narrow side street as Malon watched her surroundings carefully. She could feel something was off. Something wasn't right. It felt like she was being watched.

About thirty feet away, she could see that the path was widening out into a large cobblestone plaza. She sighed in relief at the sight of sunlight, as the wagon drew nearer to the open space. And then she saw it. A single human shape was standing directly in her path. The sunlight was too bright behind the person, making it impossible to make out their facial features or whether they were man or woman.

She urged Epona to continue toward the person as the mare showed some anxiety, pulling her head up, ears turning to lie flat against her neck and giving a nervous shake of her head.

"Go on, girl. It's fine." She whispered, not believing her own words. Jack stood up in the back of the wagon again when he noticed the person, and he reached for the bow again as another person came into sight, moving to stand beside the first. And then another.

Soon there were probably ten of them standing in their way, and as Epona came to a stop mere feet from the first person. Their eyes adjusted to the sunlight, and started to make out the features of the people standing there.

It was a mixed group, perhaps a few more men than women, all of them wearing dark clothing regardless of their sex. The one standing in front of the group was the tallest, with jet-black hair that was wild and unkempt. His eyes were bright green, with flecks of silver swirling within the emerald orbs. His clothes were like the rest of them, dark black, but with a different style. His shirt was long sleeved, with a few cuts in the fabric, while his pants were slightly tighter than the cargo styled pants the rest of them wore, with several pockets on the front and back.

Around his waist, a sash of dark blue fabric was tied, and a bandanna of the same color was tied about his neck.

She definitely didn't like the look of him.

He looked at her curiously, and then moved slightly to the side, eyes meeting those of Jack and McKenna, staring, without a trace of fear, as Jack notched an arrow.

"Who are you?" Malon asked cautiously, pretending to be calm, willing her heart to slow down from the racing beat it was at. The man smirked at Jack, and returned his gaze to her.

"Me? I'm the Great Kan…"

* * *

She loved the smell of salt water. She had no idea why. There was just something about it, the way it felt on her skin, the way it tasted on her lips. She had only been to the ocean once before in her life, when she had been very small, but the experience had stayed with her all her life.

And now here she stood, on the fine white sand of the western beaches. Smiling as a breeze caught hold of her long black hair and sent it billowing, she leaned down and removed her simple leather shoes, to stand barefoot in the sand.

And then she walked, leaving her shoes behind as she strolled, leisurely, along the shoreline.

She walked for close to an hour, just enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on her skin and the feeling of the sand beneath her feet, shifting and ever changing in shape, never coming back to be in the same position again. But as she walked, something strange in shape came into view, far down the shoreline. She raised a hand, shielding her eyes from the sun to get a better look. And as she approached, she realized what the shape was.

It was a human. A small girl, probably close to twelve years old. She way lying crumpled on the shore, just out of the water's grasp. She dropped to her knees, and quickly pressed a hand to the girl's neck. There was a very faint pulse that bumped against her fingers.

She was alive.

Looking to the little girl's side, she saw foot prints, strange ones, ones that didn't belong to a human, leading out of the water, around her body, and then back into the ocean. Her only guess could be a Zora.

After being dragged further up the beach, almost as if on queue, her eyes fluttered open.

The girl looked up at her in pure confusion.

"W-who are you?" The girl asked, tone shaking with fear.

"My name's Charise. What's yours?"

The girl looked at her for a moment more.

"M-my name is Annalise," she looked toward the ocean, looking around as if lost. "Benji? Where's Benji?"

She jumped shakily to her feet, racing back toward the water's edge. Charise ran after her, and grabbed her by the arm before she could plunge into it.

"Hey-!" she gasped. "What are you, crazy? You don't just jump into the ocean!"

Annalise jerked her arm out of her grip, and looked at her as if she was a demon, clutching a hand over where she had been grabbed. It was almost like she had been burned by her touch.

"Who's Benji?" She asked the girl, starting to question the girl's sanity. But the girl didn't answer, she looked almost like she was going to cry, tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes. After a few moments, she merely sank down to a crouch, hiding her face against her knees.

Here she had been, enjoying her first foray of freedom since she had been a little girl, and now she was left with a decision. Leave the girl like she very well wanted to do and continue on her jaunt, or try and help the (possibly insane) little girl find whoever Benji was.

_If it was you, wouldn't you want help?_ Her mind reasoned. She let her head droop slightly. _Damn her conscience._

"Hey," she whispered, leaning down and reaching out to rub her back. The little girl shied away, giving her a glare. "Don't worry, I'll help you find Benji…"

* * *

**K'ger: Now I have really important business to attend to.**

**I want to give special, incredibly grateful thanks to Link'sLily. You've done so much for me in the past, and now you're teaching me even more...I just can't thank you enough! You're so nice, I owe you big time! I think to pay you back I'll make you another drawing for According to Legend. Oh, and everyone! read her story! Its great, the characters are so well done, and its so well written I can _see_ everything taking place! She needs more readers people!**

**And did everyone like Courage of Awesome's character, Kan? Don't worry, this is just the beginning, his character is going to be fleshed out more in the next chapter. I like him, he's gonna be a great character!**


	12. Crimson Eyes

**Ok, nothin' to say here except there is an announcement at the end of this chapter. Please take the time to read it. Also, sorry for the late night updating. I've been super busy the past few days, so this is the only free time I've got. I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues. I'll proofread again tomorrow or the next day. Thank you for putting up with me.**

* * *

Crimson Eyes

* * *

"…I'm the Great Kan." The man said, watching Malon intently, as if scrutinizing every inch of her face. One of the other people walked up to him, leaning toward his ear and whispering something just low enough so that they couldn't hear

There was a moment of discussion between the two of them, before Kan returned his attention to Malon.

"Ma'am, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" He asked in a low rumble of a voice, giving Malon a strange feeling in the back of her neck. It was a strange tingle, a dash of distrust and foreboding slowly worming into the back of her mind. And yet, his voice also had a sincere note to it, one that eased the tightness in the muscles of her neck.

It was utterly confusing.

Was it his voice that had made her uncomfortable? Or was there another reason?

She glanced discreetly to the side, look toward the back of the wagon and beyond. Just beyond a curve in the road, where the ramshackle houses obscured her view, she could hear something like the familiar clatter of hooves. Two, maybe three horses were approaching them, perhaps unaware of the blocked passage, or perhaps with peaked interests as to the cause.

Regardless, two massive horses rounded the bend, lifting the giant hooves high into the air, sending the thick white feathering around their hocks flying with every stride. Both had rich ebony coats that glowed a faint purple in the bright morning sunlight, like a ravens' feathers, with thick swatches of white splattered over their bodies as if paint had been haphazardly flung at them from afar. And their manes completed the picture, hanging well past their chests and flowing gracefully with their smooth movements.

Subtly, her jaw loosened slightly, and her eyes widened as she recognized the horses' breed as one of the rarest in the region. Gypsy Vanners.

The two horses came to a halt about ten feet from the back of their wagon, ears flicking between them and their riders.

One horse carried two people, a man and a woman, both dark-haired, with young, vital faces and bright eyes. The other horse bore a single woman. Older than the other two, with her chocolate-hued hair hanging in thick waves around her matured, gently etched features, framing her face. A silken blue scarf was wrapped around back of her head, keeping her hair neat and coming in front to be clasped in place by a small amethyst pendant. Atop her liquid silver eyes, a spread of thick green paint rested, giving her a dusky, graceful appearance.

Their clothes were unusual, brightly colored, with layers of lace, gauze and veils of light, see-through fabric wrapped around the two women's shoulders and waists.

They were obviously foreigners.

Malon suddenly found her attention drawn back to Kan as he made a disgruntled sound from in front of the wagon, a low, guttural rumble rising from his throat.

With an easy swing of her legs, the woman sprang from her horse's back, sandaled feet thumping ever so softly on the cobbles. Moments later, the other two dismounted as well, coming up to stand on either side of her, arms crossed, and jaws set into grim lines.

Kan's gaze met the woman's, silver-flecked green eyes narrowing to nothing more than dangerous slits. The woman lifted her chin slightly in a defiant gesture, eyelids lowering slightly and a disgusted smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Kan." She hissed in a silken voice, not unclenching her jaw, speaking through gritted teeth. Kan swallowed slightly, discreetly, and tightened his already balled-up fists till his knuckles went white.

"Fala." He spat in return.

Each stared deviously at the other, ignoring Malon, Jack and McKenna, gripped in a fierce battle of wills as neither of them dared to back down. The two horses that the strangers rode stood perfectly still, without being restrained, but gave the occasionally flick of a tail or muffled snort. Epona sensed them, and shifted in her harnesses, swiveling her head around to see, whinnying once or twice, conversing with the beasts in her own tongue.

Another, younger man stepped out of the group behind Kan, to stand at his side, setting a wide stance and drawing a knife from a scabbard at his lower calf, snarling lightly from behind his thin lips. As Malon looked at him, she guessed that he was about Link's age, perhaps a few years older at most.

His hair was a dark auburn, hanging messily in front of his honey-brown eyes. His clothes were almost identical to Kan's, except for the sash about his waist, red in color, contrasting to the deep ocean blue that the older man wore.

"You dare step in our territory, Fala?" Kan said icily, cocking one eyebrow, waiting for a response. He received none. "What's the matter? Slave trading not paying the bills? Or have you finally given up on that ridiculous profession?"

Fala brazenly yawned before him, first putting her fingers to her lips, then reaching back and up, stretching her muscles, still not answering him. She smirked when the young man standing beside him gave a low growl of frustration, tightening his grip on the knife and muscles twitching, threatening to charge her. She laughed in response, watching his face turn from tired frustration to a fierce rage.

He started toward her, passing Kan, but only making it a few feet before the older man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, holding him back.

"Remus, calm yourself," he whispered harshly, never moving his gaze from Fala's silver eyes, daring her to break contact. "This is not your fight."

The young man turned his head.

"But father, she-!" Kan cut him off, pulling him back even further so the he was once again behind him.

"I said it's not your fight, now back down."

The rough, commanding tone of his voice obviously went straight to Remus' head, and his demeanor visibly turned steely and reserved, his jaw clamping shut with a subtle snap and the flames in his honey-brown eyes dying out instantaneously. He backed toward the group like a dog with his tail between his legs, head dipped out of shame and respect to Kan, mingling back into the crowd and disappearing among the many faces that were glaring toward Fala.

Epona shook her body, pushing herself forward a few feet, startling the group, forcing their attention back toward Malon, Jack and McKenna.

"We don't have time for this, let those three go." Kan ordered, beckoning with a hand for this group to move aside. They obeyed without question, parting and allowing Epona enough room to safely pass, and pull the wagon through with her.

Malon looked into the back of the wagon, doubt clouding her blue eyes, looking to Jack and McKenna for their opinions. Jack kept his arrow firmly notched, although he had moved the tip so that it was pointed toward the floor of the wagon, but ready to be shot if necessary. He shrugged wordlessly, and McKenna did the same, a puzzled look on her young face.

Malon looked back toward Epona, and flicked the reins, urging her forward. She steered the mare easily through the small crowd, and headed in the direction that they had been going before the strange group had stopped them.

Why had they stopped them in the first place? They hadn't stolen anything, so what was the purpose? Did they change their minds' at the last moment? Or had it all been a trick?

Terminians were apparently very different from Hylians, both in appearances, and thought processes.

They reached the Milk Bar within minutes after they escaped the group. It was a small, ramshackle place. In the weathered thatch roof, there were several large, gaping holes, were one could see straight through to the support beams that had been laid when the building first had been built. Rust-colored paint was pealing from the brick walls in massive curls, dried out and made frail by countless years in the harsh sun.

And even at their current distance, twenty feet or more, she could already hear the rowdy customers howling with raucous laughter and furious yelps from those who had had too many drinks for their own good.

If there was one thing Malon disliked more than the monsters that tried to harm her livestock on occasion, it was drunken men.

She wasn't allowed the time to brood on that, however, as the wagon pulled to a stop just past the entrance. She took a breath to steady her nerves, and dismounted the wagon. Jack and McKenna followed, and with a few whispers, it was decided that Jack would escort Malon inside to talk to the owner, while McKenna stayed outside and watched the delivery.

She grasped the doorknob, breathe becoming slightly shallower as her nerves began to get the better of her.

Seconds later, Jack took the lead, gently pushing past her and taking the doorknob into his own hand, opening it without hesitation. The musky scent of alcohol flooded out, quickly filling both of their noses. The door opened immediately to a set of stairs, leading down into the main area of the bar, where, as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, the crowds of customers were gathered. It was twice as loud inside than it had been outside, booming laughs echoing against the walls.

The door swung shut behind her, forcing a yelp from her as she shot down a few steps in her startled rush. She even passed Jack, and after stopping, she glanced nervously over her shoulder, looking at him. His mouth was open slightly, as if he was about to retort or make a snappy comment, but if he had, it died on his tongue, and he merely closed his mouth, one eyebrow lowering slightly as he started down the stairs again. Not making a single comment on her outburst.

For some reason, his reaction made her feel even more uncomfortable. She had been expecting him to chide her, make a ridiculously hurtful comment as if it was normal, or just be, well, him. But he had somehow held his own tongue, and for the first time since she had met him, kept his mouth shut.

Maybe there was something in the water.

She shook her head as they continued down the stairs, reaching the bottom after about a dozen steps. She followed closely, almost clingingly close, to Jack as he shouldered through the droves of rowdy men. She tried not to look at them as she passed, sighing inwardly in relief as they reached the bar.

The man at the bar was neither tall, nor short, only a few inches taller than her, with ink-black hair that had been swept to one side of his thick head. His eyes were only half open, and under them, large black half-moons dragged his skin down. Jack practically towered over him, and had to lean over, putting one elbow on the counter, to meet the man's gaze. Apparently, the man did not feel like tipping his head back, or even looking up.

"Hello, good sir," Jack said in a forced tone of enthusiasm. "Would you happen to be the owner?"

The man –or rather the owner- merely nodded half-heartedly, grabbing one of the dirty cups on the counter and taking an equally dirty rag to it. When it failed to clean the cup, he made a frustrated noise, and proceeded to spit into the glass, making Malon cringe.

"We're here with your milk delivery. Cyrus sent us."

The name of his milk supplier caused the man's ears to prick, and his eyes moved up, his chin even lifting a little.

"Cyrus sent you? Why couldn't he make it?" He asked in a suspicious tone, looking them over. The color drained from his face as his eyes came to rest completely on Malon, and he looked at her as though he had seen a ghost.

"C-Cremia?!"

Malon's head jerked up, and she met his eyes. For a moment she didn't understand, but then she closed her eyes, realization hitting her at last.

"Y-you died!"

She shook her head, a few strands of her hair falling in front of her eyes as she opened them again.

"My name is Malon. She's –oh. She was my sister."

He looked at her for a moment more, before he seemed to believe her, nodding softly and returning his attention to the glass he was trying to clean.

Jack talked with him for a few more minutes before motioning for her to follow, leading her back through the group of men. She kept her gaze firmly on the floor, not daring to meet any of their eyes. But with her attention on her feet, she didn't see as one of the men cut her off from Jack, stopping in her path.

She looked up, breath stopping for a moment and heart hammering against her ribcage. She instinctively clutched her hands over her heart. He was tall. At least as tall as Jack, if not taller, with hair the shade of a moonless night and bright white teeth. But his eyes were what truly frightened her. Not their shape, or even the way they seemed to taunt her, the way they glinted with malice. It was their color.

Red. A sickening crimson the shade of freshly spilt blood.

He was a shadow.

She backed away slowly, but found herself bumping up against the crowds of other men. They didn't part the way for her like they did for Jack, leaving her trapped. She looked at his face, scanning his features, trying to place them. But she couldn't. She had never seen his face before. A slight glimmer of stupidly placed hope died.

She had hoped that he was Dark. If he had been Dark, then that would at least mean that Link was alive.

But he wasn't. He was a good deal younger, in his early twenties, with a rounder face, and less muscle through his chest. He smirked at her, putting one hand on his hip and using the other to comb through his greasy black locks, flashing her a suave, toothy grin.

"Malon?!" Jack's voice cut through the din of the bar, like music to her ears. She breathed a sigh of relief, but still kept a wary eye on the shadow. She gasped, eyes widening, as he lunged suddenly at her, grabbing her wrist and hefting it high above her head, actually dragging her a few inches off of her heels, until only her toes touched the floor. He leaned closer to her, and took a breath. Then he jerked his head away, toward the frenetic group.

"Hey, boys! Come look what I found!" He called in a voice like poison. Two other shadows filled out of the group to stand beside him, looking at her with equally malicious stares.

"I think I just found our blackmail…"

* * *

"…You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?" The strange little man chirped, pointing a finger at the swirling black tattoo on his neck. He reached up and ran his fingers over the skin, grimacing at the thought of the ugly black marks that would be with him for the rest of his life, giving the public a false representation of his character.

He sighed deeply, but then stopped short. He could see his breath. A light gray plume mist stood in the air in front of his face, slowly dissipating into thin air. It was then that he realized that the temperature had dropped. It had suddenly become very cold. Freezing in fact.

Wearing only a light cotton shirt and trousers, the cold seeped through the thin fabric, chilling him quickly. He gasped without thought to how loud he was being, and rubbed his hands across his arms, trying to warm them.

Why had it suddenly become so cold? It was the middle of freaking summer for the Goddesses' sake! It felt like mid-winter against his skin.

Looking up, it only confused him more. Frost was quickly gathering on the needles of every tree in the thicket, turning the once dark green colored foliage to first an olive green, then icy white, small particles of the frozen water building up on the grasses, bushes and leaves.

"What the hell?" He breathed, looked even further up, toward the small patches of sky that he could see.

The once bright, cerulean blue had turned completely gray, and as he stared up in shock, realized that small flakes of sparkling white snow were drifting lazily down, and soon began to patter against his face.

He looked back to the strange little man, hoping for an explanation. The little man only shrugged, eyes still remaining half-closed.

Link shuddered, and gave a loud cry of shock and disgust as someone grabbed him from behind, and was dragged forcefully through the brambles to face Zepora, Gepora and Mistress Eshana.

"Thought you were going to ditch us, did you?" Zepora spat, smirking as he struggled against Gepora's gargantuan hands.

"Let me go!" Link snarled, suddenly biting into one of Gepora's fat fingers, grimacing against the taste of dirt and iron. The giant howled in pain, releasing him out of instinct, and he took his chance. He bolted, dashing past the bush he had been dragged through and going down the left fork in the road.

But even with the subtle glance he made, he had to do a double take as he ran. The strange little man was gone. He wasn't there. But he had to move on. He bolted, ignoring the sound of a horse's hooves pounding after him.

He ran as hard as his legs could go, his heart pumping, a rush of blood thrumming in his ears. He dove around a bend in the road, emerging from the thicket of fir trees and coming upon the grassy plateau that the mountain village had been built on.

But the mountain village was gone. It had completely disappeared, and in its place, a towering mountain covered in snow loomed.

That hadn't been there before.

As he stood there, slightly entranced by the massive mountain that had seemingly appeared out of thin air, a voice carried by the wind whispered in his ear.

_"__I'm waiting for you, deity. If you're man enough, come and prove it…"_

* * *

**_I hope every one likes this chapter, and here I have an announcement: I've got the plot pretty much firmed up, still a few things I'm straightening out, but were getting there, its a process. But, in the last few chapters, it was getting confusing for me, the author, with all the things going on and such, so I've made a decision._**

**_I'm cutting this story into parts. This chapter marks the end of part one, which I'm titling "Denial". (I've also put the part title on the first chapter for new readers.)_**

**_The next chapter will be chapter 13, the first chapter of Part 2. Now, parts are going to focus on individual groups, instead of switching between them INSIDE of chapters, so that its easier to understand since everyone is in different places at the same time._**

**_Hope this makes a little more sense._**

**_Also, just a side note here, anyone have any guesses as to which Anime character I've based Remus' character off of? He's an important character, and he'll appear a lot, so you'll probably guess later._**

**_You know the drill, R&amp;R. Feedback keeps me writing! Seriously, it does! So review my minions!_**


	13. Part Two: Anger

Part Two: Anger

Bloody Goo

"…I think I just found our blackmail!" The shadow hissed, tightening his grip on Malon's wrist, making her gasp in pain as his fingers made a vice-like grip on her bones, threatening to break them. The other two shadow men sneered at her, upper lips lifting and revealing their wolfish fangs. Frantically searching her memory, a strange realization came to her mind.

These shadows' weren't the same as the ones she had met previously. These shadows were different, with monster-like teeth and fierce expressions. Each one of them carried several different weapons, swords strapped to their hips, knives in the sides of their weathered boots, and one of them even had a plate of iron attached to the knuckles of his gloves.

Rogues.

"Malon!" Jack's voice came again, from the top of the staircase. She jerked her head up, and looked desperately for her friend. He was standing in the doorway, scanning the pulsing crowd of men with concerned eyes.

"Jack!" She screamed, gritting her teeth against the pain and wrenching her wrist free from the shadow's grip at last. He snarled as she bolted, lunging again, but missing her by mere inches. In the dark of the bar, with a dimly lit chandelier as her only source of light, and half-drunken men blocking her path, her heart rate spiked, nearly jumping into her throat as she searched frantically for a few inches of space, enough to push through and escape.

Her breath became ragged as the shadows' came at her again, lunging. She whipped around in a last ditch attempt to defend herself, but wasn't prepared for the bruising strike that came pummeling down on her collarbone, leaving her breathless.

She crumpled to her knees, waves of icy hot pain shooting through her muscles like electricity, and could not muster the strength to fight or protest as one of the shadows' grabbed her under one arm and proceeded to sling her over his shoulder. Her mind was in a pain-induced daze, eyes coming in and out of focus.

"Malon!" Jack's voice called again, this time more desperately. But her mind was starting to backfire, and before she had a chance to alter her fate, she slipped into the inky blackness of unconsciousness…

_Where was she?_

_She cracked her eyes open, eyelashes still within her sight as she opened her eyes only wide enough to catch a glimpse of her surroundings. At first, all she could see was darkness, a thick blackness that seemed to swirl and ebb with dark energy that made her skin crawl. But as she kept her eyes open just a crack, they adjusted to darkness._

_She was in a large chamber, with stone floors and masonry walls. A few droplets of water dripped through somewhere in the ceiling, slowly pooling on the floor near her bare feet. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed the male figure crouching about ten feet away. _

_He was tied, ropes tightly bound around his chest, keeping his arms firmly against his sides. His hair was a dark golden color, messy and unkempt, cut to hang just past his pointed ears. On his left ear, the bottom rim jutted inward toward the eardrum, before smoothing out into a normal shape again. His ear had been notched by the wicked blade of a knife._

_Link. _

_Her heart jumped into her throat. He was alive. He was really alive. She was about to rush at him when a cold hand touched her shoulder, icy fingers lacing around the collar of her dress. She jolted aside, but a tall woman kept her grip firm. Her hair was shoulder length, with an obscure violet hue, and her eyes, which were disproportionately large for her angular face, were a startling yellow hue, with green flecked edges and pupils that flickered red._

_She licked her thick red lips when Malon gave her a frightened look._

_"__What's the matter, girl?" the woman hissed, stalking around her, nearly pressing herself against her shoulder. "Do you recognize him?"_

_She looked at him again, but couldn't focus. The only sound in her ears was the gentle dripping of the water droplets._

_Drip, drip, drip._

_She stared into his eyes, they were lifeless, almost like those of a blind dog. An unsettling fog settled over her mind, worming into every inch, making rational thought impossible. When she made a soft noise, his head didn't even move, nor did his yes, staring vacantly out ahead._

_Drip, drip, drip._

_"__Do you recognize him?"_

_She looked yet again at the man sitting, crouched before her. Had she known him? His eyes were so devoid of any life, milky white and unseeing. After a moment, she shook her head. A shrieking laugh erupted from the woman's throat. The woman slunk around her a few times, slowly, coiling around her like a snake._

_Drip, drip, drip._

_"__Do you know who you are?"_

_She looked down at her hands, turning her palms upright, looking at the darkened calluses on her fingertips and the cresses across the ball of her hand. _

_She shook her head again._

_The woman moved behind her, putting a hand on each of her shoulders, breath ghosting over her ear. It had no temperature, no heat. It was merely a movement of air._

_"__Do you hear my voice?"_

_Drip, drip, drip._

_She nodded again, a strange weight filling her hands. She looked down, finding that her hands were grasped tightly around the hilt of a large scimitar, curved blade glinting dully in the darkness. Strangely, the sudden appearance of the sword didn't startle her. She couldn't focus on anything. And for some reason, she couldn't suppress a half-witted smile. She felt like she was floating on air._

_"__Good," the woman cooed, tightening her grip on her shoulders. "Then show me how to use that scimitar."_

_She suddenly felt herself being pulled forward by an unknown, unseen force, dragging her toward the man that was crouched before her. And without a moment's hesitation, she drove the scimitar's blade right into the man's heart…_

Malon woke with a muffled scream, muscles contracting involuntarily, violent tremors shaking through her body. Her blue eyes snapped open. It was dark, but not as dark as in the nightmare that had just moments beforehand had wracked her body and mind.

A few feet away, a fire crackled, and over it, an empty pan hung. It was then that she realized that she was lying flat on her side, one arm going numb as she laid awkwardly on it, cutting off blood flow and resulting in a tingling feeling, like tiny needles were jabbing her from the inside. Craning her neck, she found that they were in a dense forest, with lumbering willow trees, foliage draped lazily from their mighty bows, and amidst the black velvet sky, a full moon loomed hauntingly overhead.

"Hey, Chesed, look," a sickening male voice barked from beside the fire. She looked up, and found one of the shadows' from before staring down at her, an ugly smirk on his face. "The broad's awake."

She jolted, struggling to drag herself upright without the use of her hands, when a pair of black leather boots came only inches from her face. Her hands were tied behind her back, making nearly impossible.

Wordlessly, the one called Chesed lunged forward, and grabbed her by the arm, hefting her up so that he could look at every inch of her face and neck. Through the foul-smelling material that was bound across her mouth, she spat a string of insults at him, but only succeeded in making him laugh. And when his stare fell upon her chest, she growled warningly, the low rumble intensifying when his tongue darted out, wetting his thin, pale lips.

She couldn't fight the feeling that he was looking at her like a piece of meat.

"Are you sure we have to use her as bait?" A third voice asked, coming from beyond a thick wall of underbrush, three huge, midnight-black coated beasts trailing behind him. They appeared to be enormous wolf-dog hybrids, with yellowing eyes, and thick tails that were kept low. At the end of each toe, a wicked claw protruded, digging softly into the ground.

"I could see _so_ many other uses for her." The shadow sneered, looking on her with narrow red eyes, subconsciously licking his lips like a hungry wolf. She watched as the third shadow lifted his sword so that it was eye level, and, pulling a dirty handkerchief from his back pocket, began wiping crimson blood from the blade, quickly staining the off-white fabric red.

She hoped from the bottom of her heart that it wasn't Jack or McKenna's blood.

"Watch your mouth, Taruk," Chesed snapped, letting go of her arm, resulting in her falling pathetically to the ground. "It's the easiest way to lure the Deity into the southern mists, you daft idiot."

Deity? What deity? What were these three shadows talking about?

"Yeah, sure, but would it really matter if we had a little fun beforehand?" The second shadow questioned, tilting his head to one side, and leering at her with a crooked grin. Chesed whipped around, glaring back at him, blood-red eyes narrowing down to dangerous slits. In his eyes, a fiery warning glinted within the crimson pools of his irises.

"Yes, Zauz. It would make a great deal of a difference! If you did that sort of thing, you'd imprint your scent on her you fool! Then the whole plan would be ruined!"

"Ok, so you collect whatever the hell you need from her to make the damn thing, and then we can have some fun with her."

Chesed suddenly lunged, grabbing the collar of the other shadow's shirt. His face came only inches from the other, upper lip lifting in a fierce snarl.

"Are you forgetting what Lorelei said? She said that we are to lure out the deity. The easiest way to lure him is by using _her_," he jerked his head toward her, as she watched from the ground. "She also stated that I'm in charge. So back off!"

He shoved the other shadow back, making him stagger aside. After giving him a final, aggressive glare, the shadow did back off, giving in and instead stalking off toward the giant wolf-dogs, stopping aside one of them and furiously beginning to brush its black coat with a hand, smoothing it and ridding it of clinging burs that were knotted together in its fur.

As she watched this all take place, her mind couldn't be moved from what one of them had said.

Lorelei. Where did she know that name? An annoying, gnawing thought that she really should remember the name It was shoved quickly, however, from her mind when Chesed grabbed her about the arm again, hefting her up to her feet and gripping her so tightly she feared that he would shatter the bones in her wrist, as it was pulled forcefully from the tight wrapping of rope that had kept it restrained, skin aflame with pain as the rough twine left dull red burns. She winced as it tightened further, her joints being bent backwards as he mercilessly twisted her wrist with a violent flick of his own, and her eyes involuntarily squeezed shut, a few wayward tears slipping from underneath her eyelids and down her cheeks.

She felt herself being dragged closer to the fire, the heat radiating across her skin, tingling on her exposed wrist. When she forced her eyes open again, she found herself only inches from the flame, staring down into the empty pot with nervous curiosity.

The shadow named Taruk was holding a jar in his left hand, filled with thick white goo. With the opposite hand, he uncorked the bottle, tossing the cork flippantly aside and scooping two thick, dirty, sausage-like fingers into the goop and pulling out a large glob of it, slapping it into the pan. The goop sizzled and spat as it hit the boiling hot metal, melting into a thin covering within seconds.

Something about the way the goop melted, the way it moved, was slightly mesmerizing. She watched it as it moved, swirled, senses slowly dulling, melting like the goop. She failed to notice the scratching sound of a knife being removed from a scabbard. Or as the second shadow slowly approached her.

Chesed moved her wrist again, resulting in another wave of pain as the stretched tendons were forced to move. He forced her wrist to hover directly over the pot of bubbling white gloop, the heat of the fire dancing over her skin. But she barely even noticed the change, the bubbling goo still holding her full attention, firelight reflecting against her blue eyes, her eyelids slowly relaxing, drooping. For some odd reason, she felt completely content just to watch the goo.

She had no idea why, nor any interest in finding out.

As she stared lazily into the pot, the second shadow, Taruk, pressed the sharp, pointed tip to the ball of her palm. She snapped suddenly back to a painful reality when the blade of the knife jutted suddenly into her skin. She gasped as the blade dug deeper, cutting through skin and muscle. Reflexively, her muscles tightened, and every tendon in her arm flexed, trying to yank away from the source of her pain.

Chesed held firm to her wrist, smirking with devious pleasure as healthy, ruby-red blood quickly dribbled from the now open wound on her palm, soaking her skin and dribbling into the pot, droplets splashing against the bubbling white goo, slowly mixing together, turning the boiling substance crimson. The third shadow, Zauz, slowly moved over to them, watching as her blood slowly spilled into the pot, looking at her with hungry eyes, shoulders slumped forward, muscles in his neck drawn tight.

Finally, after a brutal twist, Taruk ripped the blade from her flesh, making her give a cry as the wicked metal nipped through muscle and tendon alike. Chesed released her wrist, and giving another cry, she fell backwards, landing painfully on her tailbone and clutching at her wounded hand, still dripping blood.

"We've got what we needed. Now can have some actual fun for once?" Zauz asked, eyes never wavering from her, his intent gaze making her stomach curl into knots. Chesed looked at him with a disgusted glance, before returning his attention the boiling pot. He heaved a great sigh before responding.

"Yeah, sure. Fine. If it'll shut you the hell up, than have at it." He said dismissively, waving him away like an annoying fly. Finally finding the strength, she managed to slip the cloth covering her mouth, and screamed as the shadow leapt at her like a starving lion, grabbing her by the injured wrist and dragging her once again to her feet. Within seconds, his face was only inches from her, putrid breath ghosting over her neck as he looked at her, apparently indecisive.

"Get away from me you filthy pig!" She barked, teeth clamping together with a snap. He merely smirked, chortling softly deep inside his thick throat.

"I like a girl with a bit of spice, makes things more…interesting." He growled, leaning a few inches closer and making her chest tighten involuntarily with fear of what he was planning.

A low, vicious growl came from a few feet away, and with a frustrated growl, Zauz looked up his intended pray, toward where the three giant wolf-dogs' were lying. All three had risen, paws set far apart, heads held low, hackles lifting up from the backs of their necks. They were staring just past the underbrush, another wave of snarls erupting from the throats, a few flecks of frothy saliva dripping from their massive maws.

"Nyx be damned!" Zauz snapped, letting go of her arm and unsheathing a curved dagger. "I thought we already lost this guy once!"

Taruk and Chesed bolted away from the boiling pot of bloody goop, coming to stand on either side of him, drawing their own knives.

Malon's heart jumped into her throat as she found her own footing, looking toward them, then toward the open expanse of forest on the opposite side. She could run, but she could never outrun one of those giant beasts.

A strange, rhythmic thumping sound met her ears, starting out softly, and then quickly growing louder, until it dominated the otherwise quiet landscape. The wolf-dogs barked savagely, suddenly turning tail and bolting out of the way as two massive horses leapt through the undergrowth, forcing the three shadows' to jump out of the way or otherwise be trampled.

The first horse was an elegantly featured stallion, with a long black mane and tail and a short, glossy, dun colored coat. The other was copper colored, with a brilliant white mane that shimmered in the firelight.

Epona and Cerus.

Jack leapt easily from Cerus' back, twin knives already drawn, and before he could react, he dug them both deep into Taruk's upper thigh, forcing a thick, throaty scream from the shadow, as he ripped the blades from his flesh and the shadow fell to the ground in a crumpled, immobilized heap. Meanwhile, McKenna, who was seated easily atop Epona, circled quickly around Zauz, confusing him. In her right hand, she brandished a cast iron frying pan, and with a sharp swing of her arm, she brought the heavy cooking tool careening into the back of the man's skull.

He too, crumpled to the ground, leaving only Chesed and the wolf-dogs as any sort of opponent.

Cerus tossed his head, turning toward the remaining shadow, and trotting with high-stepping strides to come up to stand protectively next to Jack, looming over him as a form of defense as Chesed looked between him and McKenna, the emotion in his eyes quickly turning from fierce anger, to that of a cornered animal, a mixture of fear and unknowing.

She immediately bolted toward Epona, making to the great mare before the shadow could stop her and taking comfort in the scent of the horse's mane. The scent of steamy warmth wafting off of her skin, mixed with the soft, fragrant smell of hay that made her worries melt away like shadows melted to the sun.

Raking her fingers through the mare's silky mane, fingertips just barely brushing against the short coat, she looked daringly toward Chesed, who, despite the underlying look of defeat in his eyes, still bore a proud stature, head tilting cockily to one side, one corner of his thin lips lifting slightly in a disgusted smirk. The wolf-dogs' moved toward him and the two collapsed shadows, making a protective barrier, hackles straight up and down and they glared warningly at the three humans.

"Who are you?" Jack demanded icily, purplish-black shadow blood still dripping from his knives. Chesed jerked his head toward him, snarls intensifying from the three beasts' beside him as they turned their angular heads toward him as well. Cerus bobbed his head, black mane shaking slightly as he gave a defiant snort.

But he yet remained silent, glaring daggers between Jack, McKenna and Malon.

"Answer." McKenna prompted, brandishing her frying pan again, but shying slightly when one of the beasts' snapped at her, forcing Epona to jump back a few paces.

Chesed removed his gaze from any of them, staring straight out into the forest in front of him, ignoring them.

Looking one last time at Chesed, Malon moved further toward Epona's haunches, and with an easy swing, mounted behind McKenna, sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of the mare's muscles beneath her, the ability to feel every of the mare's breaths.

"Thanks." She muttered gratefully in an undertone, smiling at the thought of escaping. McKenna nodded, looking past Chesed and nodding to Jack, who, seeing this, stepped back, and easily mounted Cerus.

And before the beasts' or Chesed could make move, both horses turned, bolting back the way they had come, leaving the shadow to stand between his two collapsed partners. The one that Jack had stabbed groggily, painfully, dragged himself to his feet, favoring the injured leg as he made his way to try and mount one of the giant beasts.

"Let them go." Chesed commanded, throwing out an arm to stop him.

"But sir-!"

"They'll simply get themselves lost in the mist. We got what we needed from her." He said, looking toward the bubbling pot of bloody goop…


	14. Your Soul

**Yet again, I apologize for the delay in updating. Life is crazy, ok? I try. Plus this chapter was a...female dog about coming onto paper.**

**Thanks to Link'sLily and Courage of Awesome for keeping up with this story. Its getting long, and if it keeps up like this, its gonna be a hell of a lot longer than SIG.**

**Again, this chapter is M for Mature. Even I, the author, found this chapter disturbing. Read with caution.**

* * *

Your Soul

* * *

"Father please!" She threw herself at his feet, hands scrapping against the rough cobblestones of the throne room. Dull, halfhearted sunlight streamed through the open windows that lined either side of the room, making the flames atop the lit torches flicker and waltz mid-air.

He stayed still despite her cries, jaw set in a firm, emotionless line, thin lips pressed tightly together. His dark ebony eyes looking critically down on her shuddering form, uncaring for her strife. He merely pulled one muscular leg up onto the other, to sit cross-legged in front of her, both arms resting directly at his sides, hands gripping the arms of his throne.

A choking sob escaped her throat as she looked up at him from the floor, tears blurring her vision, making him nothing more than a threatening figure glaring unsympathetically down on her.

"Please father. Anything!" she begged, leaning down to rest her forehead against her hands, listening the gentle dripping of her tears hitting the cobbles. "I'll do anything, just please! Not that!"

He made an arrogant growl above her, not moving an inch.

"No daughter of mine will be caught _dead_ doing such a thing." He said, his monotone voice echoing in her ears, his words hitting her heart like a knife. She jerked her head up to look at him again, a fresh wave of hot, angry tears overflowing the lids of her amber eyes and flooding down her angled cheeks. Her lungs seized in another desperate sob, her chest contracting painfully as her emotions pushed her blood to boil and mind to be sent careening over the edge.

She dragged herself to her feet, standing eye to eye with him, body trembling.

"I beg of you-!"

"I will not allow it!" He screamed, leaping suddenly to his feet, coming quickly to loom over her and forcing her to stagger back, fear suddenly consuming every fiber of her mind. Her heel caught on a loose cobble, and with a terrified shriek, she fell back, landing on her tailbone. She looked up at him like an injured mouse that a cat had finally cornered, her breath coming faster and faster. Her heart stuttered in her chest, missing a beat as he leered down at her.

His head tipped back and to one side, his eyes no longer visible from her point of view, and his expression unreadable. His toned, bare chest flexed as he threw one arm to the side, head jerking in the same direction.

With a fearful squeak, two older ladies rushed to his side, heads bent low and shoulders slumped. He upon them with cold eyes, his lips parting slightly, giving them both a glimpse of his teeth, glistening in the dully sunlit atmosphere. Both women immediately dropped to their knees, heads bent down, chins against their necks. To those only giving passing glance, they remained completely still.

But if she watched closely, she could see them shaking.

"Take Keres to her room," he spat, tipping his head forward to glare at her again, unseeing of her hopeless expression. "Lock her in. No daughter of mine will _ever_ marry a man from Ikana."

The women rose carefully to their feet as another heartbroken sob ripped from her throat. Seconds later two sets of hands could be felt firmly wrapping around her shoulders, and without her personal consent, she was dragged to her feet. She shot a suddenly bold, vicious look at her father before she was whipped around, and pulled toward the archway that served as an exit from the throne room.

As they neared the exit, she could hear several pairs of feet striding toward her father. He had called someone else over to him. She craned her neck around as they reached the archway, and could see several tall, cloaked figures kneeling before her father. She recognized them as members of her father's military.

"Go to Ikana Castle at dawn," she could hear her father snap to the men kneeling there. "And kill Igos Du Ikana."

She screamed as his words hung in the air like a thick, sickly mist, trying desperately to break free of the two women's grips. She dug her bare heels into the floor, ignoring the scraping pain as the hard stone floor unrelentingly held firm.

She didn't even flinch as it began to draw blood, rubbing her heels raw and leaving a faint trail of blood through the hallways of the Stone Tower. She screamed until her voice was gone, as she was dragged unwillingly through the seemingly endless stall ways, darkness enveloping the three figures.

When they reached her room, she was tossed inside as if she was nothing more than a piece of garbage, kicked aside like an unwanted dog, and before she could muster the strength, the door slammed shut. She listened carefully, hoping that the women would forget to lock the door, and leave her a way to escape. But it was mere moments after she thought this that a truly sickening click was heard. So instead, she curled herself into a ball, and cried. She cried until there were no tears left, and even after that, she sobbed dryly, shrieking until she tasted blood.

And it was only when every last ounce of her strength had been used up that she passed into a restless, sleep, muscles twitching with fatigue…

* * *

"Wake up, girl."

She shifted in her sleep, a soft, hoarse moan passing her lips, dried tears glinting in the moonlight that streamed through her window.

"I have waited for a millennia for the one who could wield my strength to awaken, and yet I am faced with one who will not rise."

She slowly cracked one eye open, muscles aching. She peered toward the window, and screamed again, scrambling to her feet, ignoring the pain in both her throat, and her feet. A large figure was crouched precariously on the window ledge.

She backed as far away as her room would allow her, quickly bumping against the wall. Back pressed against it, her hands roamed frantically over every inch she could reach, eyes never moving from the shape.

It moved slowly, unfurling its obscurely long body from the crouched position, and crawled into her room. Back to the moon, it was nothing more than a silhouette, one that she could not recognize. It's body shape vaguely resembled that of a human, but there were jarring differences. Its knees were bent in the wrong direction, so that when it walked, it swayed like a crane, and as it sauntered closer to her, a tail slowly flicked in either direction, the way a cat swished its tail when it was stalking a rat.

She wanted desperately to scream, to cry out for help. But fear prevented her from moving, she was frozen in place and the only sound she could manage to produce was a pitiful squeak as it came so close that she could smell its breath.

"Do you want out of here?" It asked, stopping only inches from her. Its voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She couldn't respond. She merely shook where she stood, staring up at the looming figure before her. She flinched as it touched her shoulder with a large, clawed hand. Its touch was like ice, making her shiver as the freezing cold seeped through her skin.

Her body trembled as the creature's claws dragged across her skin, over her collarbone, and up her neck, until one claw forced her chin upward, so that she was staring up at what she assumed was the creature's face. Her eyes were suddenly forced shut as a bright yellow light flashed in the creature's other hand. A strange, ethereal warmth suddenly contrasted the icy touch of its skin, as as she slowly reopened her eyes, blinking in the light, she stared in wonder as a fire flickered in its palm.

She could see the creature's palm, she could see thick swatches of burned skin where the fire was settled, fueled by strange, obscure ways she could hardly imagine. But it did not seem to feel pain, it didn't even flinch as the flame slowly crept toward its fingertips, and up its arm, spattering and crackling as it traveled across dry, malnourished flesh. It spread across its shoulders, and then traveled slightly quicker up it's long neck, finally coming to a stop at the crown of its head, illuminating its face for the first time.

Its face was angular, coming to a harsh point at the tip of its chin, with four spiky protrusions on either cheek. At the top of its head, two long, knobby horns grew up, to the side, and back toward its neck, tips looking as though they could do some damage. And finally its eyes. They were just a bit too large for the size of its head, and shaped like cats' eyes, pointed at either end, with a fierce yellow hue, green speckling the very edges and its slit-like pupils burning hard crimson.

It was a demon.

"Do you want out of here?" It asked again. She looked at it for a moment, and before she could even give it a second thought, she nodded.

It leapt backward, toward the window with an odd pushing-off of its backwards legs, giving a strange, hooting cry as it whipped across her room, racing toward the window. She watched in dumbfounded shock as it gave another cry, and with a last, foolhardy bound, leapt straight out the window.

Without hesitation, she bolted toward the window where the creature had disappeared, colliding with the stone, waist-high surface and leaning as far as she could go, eyes frantically searching the black abyss that the Stone Tower had been built beside.

She gasped inwardly when she found that the creature had not fallen into the abyss. It was standing about twenty feet away, appearing to be floating on air. Its feet were set as though it was standing on solid ground, but there was no ground beneath it. Only deep blackness and open space. It flashed her a toothy grin when it met her eyes, smirking with its half-crazy eyes glinting in the moonlight.

And when it reached out a clawed hand, jutting the palm toward her in a beckoning gesture, she found herself frozen where she stood.

"Do you want out of here?"

Was it really trying to help her? Could something so sinister looking possibly _want_ to? Or was it really a demon, like in the stories she had long ago been told? Trying to lure her to her death.

But there was something in its eyes that made her believe it. Something that made her want to trust it, and as if being pulled by some invisible force, she swung herself onto the window ledge, bare feet balancing precariously on the narrow strip of stone.

"Jump." The creature commanded, impatiently flicking the claws of its opposite hand against one another, resulting in a strange clicking noise. She stared down into the blackness for a moment, considering with fear what she was about to do. Was it really a good idea? If this creature was a demon, it would lure her to jump straight out the window, and she'd fall to her death. Then he'd probably eat her.

That was a lovely thought.

But on the other hand, did it really matter? She wouldn't last long being confined to her room anyway. If she died this way, then at least she would be in control of her fate. And in the end, she would finally have gotten the one thing she had wanted, but had never been allowed to have.

A choice.

So with a final breath, she stepped forward, eyes closed, and allowed herself to drop from the window. For a moment, she believed that she had fallen, that she was careening to her death, but after a moment more, she dared crack one eye open, and found herself staring directly into the eyes of the creature.

She too, was floating on air.

The creature let loose a haughty laugh at her confused expression, before grabbing her forcefully around the wrist, and started dragging her at an impressive clip. She didn't even have to lift her feet at first, it was strange, moving, but not having to walk or to ride some creature, but she was scarcely allowed time to think, as before she knew it, the creature had dragged her across the entirety of the abyss, and head reached the main gates of the Stone Tower.

The gates that led to Ikana.

She was starting to wonder if this was a dream. Or rather, a nightmare, as she found herself being pushed onto the hard, solid ground, loosing what little footing she had had and falling, rolling a few feet toward the gate.

She knew very well that the gates were never opened after dark. And as she looked back toward the abyss, there was no creature standing there.

"Princess Keres?!" A voice snapped from beside the gate. She cringed, and looked up from where she was crumpled on the ground. The gate sentry was running toward her, spear dropped to the ground.

"How did you get out of your room?!"

She rose wearily, body aching from the impact, and looking at him, she gasped slightly as he grabbed her shoulder. But looking up, she smirked when two glaring yellow eyes slowly appeared behind the sentry. The next thing either of them knew, five wicked claws wrapped around the shoulders of the sentry, and he was flung against the wall, knocked unconscious.

And without word, the creature bounded awkwardly toward the smaller, well-hidden door beside the main gate, trotting on its backwards legs and grabbing the door handle and flinging it open, uncaring.

She followed reluctantly as the creature bent over, having to bend nearly in half just to fit through, and as she reached the other side, the first thing her eyes fall upon were the sparkling red-orange turrets of Ikana Castle.

Igos. She could see Igos again.

With her newfound freedom, her mind began to race with possibilities. She could run away with him. They could see the world, free of responsibilities. She took a relaxing breath and then started out toward the castle. It was a good thing she knew a secret passage inside, she never thought it'd be so useful!

"And where do you think you're going?" The creature's voice asked, and seconds later claws wrapped around her bicep. She stopped in her tracks, not daring to look back at it. Something in its voice had not sounded friendly. Its claws tightened, slight pain starting to work its way into the muscles underneath, subtly forcing her to twitch beneath its touch.

"Um, away?"

"I helped you get out of there, now I need one teensy-tiny little thing from you."

Her heart sank slightly. She should have expected it to be harder than it had been so far. She turned back to it, nerves starting to take hold. She could feel it in her stomach, like someone had tied it into a knot. Looking into its eyes, she steeled herself, fearing that if she looked weak, it would react like a shark that had tasted blood.

"Fine."

The creature yipped, letting go of her shoulder and bouncing a few feet away. It stopped when it reached a stone dais, stopping and looking at her expectantly. She walked toward him, and as she approached, found that she was looking down into a well. A very deep, very empty well.

She knew the well. It had dried up centuries ago. Some people believed that now it was used as a burial ground for the damned. It was thought that those who had sinned in their lives would be drawn to the well by some evil presence. It was unknown why, but the presence seemed to make those attracted to it act as though they were in trances. They would trudge, blind and seemingly unseeing, directly to the well, and no matter whom would try and stop them, they would fling themselves into the deep recess, guaranteed to their own demises.

"You want me to go in there?" She asked, staring into the unknown. The creature nodded, and gestured toward the rickety rope ladder that led far down into the dark hole.

"Ladies first."

As she walked unwillingly toward the ladder, and turned around to descend, she shot the creature a single, bold glance of distaste, before quickly continuing down.

As she traveled downward, a scent met her nose. Faint at first, it quickly grew to be almost unbearable. It smelled distinctively like death, and the further down she climbed, the worse the smell got. The tunnel seemed to go on forever, as continued, her arms began to protest. True, she hadn't had to do a great deal of physical labor in her time, but the climb, she guessed, was troublesome to anyone who tried it.

The smell didn't help.

And where was that creature? Glancing up, she saw not a hide nor hair of it, but more disturbingly, she couldn't see the sky either. Was she that far beneath the earth?

Her thoughts were interrupted as her foot abruptly met the ground. She let out a squeak as it did, not prepared for the sudden change, and stayed still for a moment, trying to slow the rapid beating of her heart. She didn't realize until now that she was shaking.

It was dark at the bottom of the well, she could barely see. The air was stale, and smelled pungently of death. Dried blood and rotting skin, something she had never smelled before in her life and yet engrained deep in her senses, a warning scent that made the skin on the back of her neck crawl. Breathe hitching, she started forward, walking down the only path available. As the path widened out, her foot caught on something.

She screamed, arms flailing, and fell forward. The ground was surprising soft, and broke her fall, but as she opened her eyes, her stomach tightened, and she had to hold herself back from screaming again. She was staring directly into two, lifeless eyes.

She had landed on a dead body.

She scrambled to her feet, backing away as quickly as possible, both hands clutched over her heart and cheeks puffed out in disgust. It wasn't just one dead body. It was a whole pile.

Their faces were indiscernible, unrecognizable, but across their pale, rotting skin, sickly black bruises had bloomed, and across their arms, and chests and abdomens, old gashes remained open, the muscles exposed rotting where the stale air touched them, and on a few of them, the wounds were so deep that bone could be seen, slowly turning frail and discolored, never having been supposed to see the light of day, or be touched by the atmosphere beyond.

Some were so far gone, that nothing remained but their bones, shattered clothing hung, shadows of their past, forgotten and abused, hidden beneath the earth, lost souls whose own people had shunned them. Judged them, and seen them not as human beings, as their right was, but as immoral, unholy. Unwanted.

But one was still alive. Lying amongst the dead, a lone man shivered in the frightening face of his own death. Eyes closed, mouth open, blood slowly pooling in the cavity of his throat, staining his teeth. As she watched, the blood overflowed, dribbling across his lips, and off of his chin.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly, shuddering with the effort. His hands traveled painstakingly from his sides, both coming to clutch at his left side, hissing as his thick, worker's fingers clasped over the exposed skin. A dark, sickening wound was cut deep there.

She stiffened when his head turned toward her, and his limpid blue eyes cracked open, eyes like those of a speared fish, fogging over as if made of glass.

"Princess Keres." His voice shuddered with pain, but still found enough strength to push the words from his lips.

"You shouldn't be here."

A silence followed, as she refused to, and could not find the strength to answer. And for a moment, she thought that he had passed, his eyes giving no sign of life.

"A demon lives here. If you do not leave, he will find you, and you will suffer a fate worse than death." His voice slowly grew weaker, and his body stilled. It took her only a few minutes more the know that he had died.

She stood, transfixed. She had never witnessed death before. There was something about it that was surreal, like she was witnessing nothing more that a stage performance, and that they would wake, that it was all a hoax, that it wasn't real.

But it was all too real.

"These people did not die from the fall, you know."

She jumped, but dared not move as the creature spoke softly into her ear. Its claws touched her shoulder, making her shiver. The other hand reached from behind, and took hold of her wrist. She could feel its breath on her neck, against the back of her ear, gently rustling a few strands of her dark brown hair.

"You know the legends that surround this well, no?"

She nodded gently, body trembling as the creature's body came to rest flush against her.

"That those who were destined to be damned would be drawn here, and that they would fling themselves to their deaths?" She could feel the creature rest its chin against her shoulder. "Lies. Lies that your people have kept for centuries. Those who your people have thought to sin are dragged here by the Garo. They are flung down here, but they don't die from the fall. No, the Garo follow them down, and they murder them where they stand.

"The Garo leave their bodies here to rot. They leave them here. Do you want to know why your kingdom is dying? Humans are spiritual creatures. To thrive, they require something greater than themselves. But your people shunned their god. They locked him here a millennia ago, left him here to mourn the deaths of his followers, and to await the day when the savior of his people would come of age.

"That savior, is you," his voice rumbled into her ear, as she stared straight ahead, eyes fixed, but unseeing. "And I am the god."

The creature's –or rather the god's- hand slowly dragged away from her wrist, trailing up her arm, underneath, and hooking his elbow with hers, he spun her around, so that she was facing him. He held her body so that she was pressed against him, one hand on her shoulder, the other behind her ear.

"Help me save our people. You would be revered forevermore. They would worship you. To them, you'd be a goddess. Perhaps you could even ascend the steps of immortality."

She looked up into his eyes, one elegant brow arching with curiousity.

"And what's the price?"

The god chuckled softly, and moved his other hand to also rest behind her ear.

"Not much," he leaned so close, their noses nearly touched. His lips parted, revealing the fangs beyond. "Just your soul…"

* * *

**I'm sorry about the darker turn of events in this story. But thank you for reading and sticking with me. This chapter is actually a two part-er. The second part will appear later in the story. **

**And I am reinstating character songs! Link'sLily gets kudos for coming up with this idea in her story, According To Legend, and she was nice enough to let me do this in SIG, so now I'm doin' it again.**

**Keres.**

**Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier.**

**Reviews are appreciated!**


	15. Honey & Wool

**Ok, I'm sick of saying sorry. Can we just say that its a given if its been too long between updates? I mean, I seriously feel guilty when I leave you guys hanging. BUT this time has a legitimate excuse: I got sick. **

**And in other news, I hear it was Courage of Awesome's birthday a few days ago soooooo...**

**_Happy birthday to you,_**

**_Happy birthday to you,_**

**_Happy birthday dear Courage of Awesome *whew*_**

**_HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!_**

* * *

Honey &amp; Wool

* * *

The horses only came to a stop when Jack was sure that the shadows could not reach them. He pulled Cerus to a stuttering halt, hands tangling in the stallion's jet-black mane. The stallion's muscles tensed beneath him as he dug his agile hooves into the moist, mossy ground to slow from the reckless gallop. Not prepared for the sudden stop, Epona let loose a soft, disgruntled whinny as she fought to stop herself.

Her shoulder butted into the smaller stallion's rump, and she threw back her head, mane flipping side-to-side as she scolded the horse before her in the tongue they shared, ears turning and lowering to lay flat against the back of her neck.

Waiting impatiently, Jack finally slid from Cerus' back when the two horses had worked out their differences through a series of whinnies, nips and glares. After making sure the mare would allow him to approach, he walked carefully over to her side, and helped both McKenna and Malon dismount, constantly stealing glances in the direction in which they had come, his green eyes narrow, suspicion conveyed quite strongly in the way his eyebrows were arched, low and furrowed.

He wordlessly took up the guard position, staring vigilantly into the dark, foreboding forest that surrounded them. He watched as the horses slowly meandered toward a patch of grass, lowering their heads and cropping at the lush blades of foliage, each occasionally swatting playfully at the other with their tails, and as Malon took up a place not far from them, leaning up against the trunk of a tree and hugging her knees.

He wondered what had happened to her. Her cheeks were tearstained, a few leftover droplets clinging to the corners of her dull blue eyes. Her complexion, once a healthy, milky cream color, had now turned pale, sickly and white as a sheet, as if she had seen a ghost. If he thought about it, he had never really seen her seen her like that. There had been times when she was depressed before, of course. But never so deeply.

It troubled him.

"Jack?" McKenna's voice whispered softly as he sank down to sit upon a fallen log. He looked up, and saw that she was still standing where she had dismounted Epona. Her hands were clasped in front of her, pressed softly against the silky fabric of her skirt. A glimmer of worry rested deep in the pools of her brown eyes.

"Yeah?"

She stepped closer, looking intently at his right shoulder.

"You're injured."

"What?" His head subtly jerked toward her, away from the section of forest he had been staring into, and as discreetly as he could, covered his shoulder with his left hand.

"You heard me."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine."

"Fine my ass."

"Well, yes, it is fine, but is this really the place to talk about that?"

Before he could stop her, she had lunged toward him with a frustrated growl, grabbing the collar of his simple white shirt, yanking the buttons loose and exposing his chest and shoulders as she pulled the shirt from his body. Against the pale moonlight, and his gently tanned skin, a long, jagged gash ripped from collarbone to bicep. It was relatively narrow, but despite this, blood still dribbled freely, staining his chest red.

He winced as McKenna gave a small squeak of shock, and he watched as she clapped both hands over her mouth, eyes widening dramatically. After she was allowed the time to take in the situation, her expression changed, formerly fear, it turned to frustration and anger.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" She barked, leaning closer and looking at the wound. He winced again as she brushed her fingers against the skin near to the gash, tender muscles shuddering beneath her touch.

He looked at her as she sunk to her knees, opening the embroidered leather satchel she had brought with her and digging through its contents in search of something. She pulled out several smaller pouches and jars. Neither spoke as she systematically opened each pouch, and leaned each against the base of the fallen log he was seated on, making sure they stayed open so that she could easily reach the contents.

The first thing she did was take a piece of clean linen, wiping it across his chest and mopping up the thick red liquid. He winced as her touch came closer wound, and hissed through his clenched teeth as she cleaned even the interior of the gash, dabbing at the jagged edges.

"Where did you get this?" She asked softly, pulling the linen away, and after placing it beside her knees, reached toward one of the jars. The only sounds were the horses as they cropped at the grass nearby, making soft munching noises, and the sound of the jar lid being unscrewed, scratching softly as metal rubbed against metal.

The soft, sweet-smelling fragrance of honey wafted from the jar as the lid was removed completely. Inside the small bottle, a thick, semi-transparent golden liquid slowly dribbled toward the glass lip as she gently tipped the jar, holding her other palm underneath where it would drain.

The liquid poured thickly, slow and sticky, and pooled in the cup of McKenna's palm in a soft glob, dull moonlight making it glisten. When she seemed satisfied, she pulled the jar back, cutting off the thick flow and placing the jar aside.

"Answer." She said in a soft hum, leaning up and pressing the thick honey to his wound. He winced again, but after a moment, allowed one of his eyes to crack open, and he looked at her as she tenderly rubbed the cooling substance into his gash.

He remained silent as she finished with the honey, wiping her hands on the bloody linen rag and this time opening one of the small leather pouches. From inside, she pulled a large swatch of grayish-white fluff. She stretched it to size in her hands, her lips overturned in a gentle frown as she refused to meet his eyes. She held it there for a moment, slender fingers pressing it over the gash, looking at his shoulder.

"What is that?" He asked, breaking the silence. She glanced toward his eyes.

"Wool that I soaked in some blue spruce needle and willow bark water a while back."

"Hold that over it," she whispered, waiting until his own hand held it in place before finally taking out a thick bundle of unused bandaging. She rose to her feet, bandages in hand, and took his wrist in her hand, pulling him to stretch out his arm so that she could wrap his wound more securely. "Who did this to you?"

He grunted as she pulled the bandaging tight, and then tied it closed.

"One of those damned shadows did it when they kidnapped Mal.

McKenna looked at him for a moment, and was about to turn away when he stopped her with a hand gently clasping around her wrist. He pulled her down, and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Thank you." He murmured against her lips. After a moment passed, and she stayed still, as if frozen, he pulled away, a look of confusion and concern playing across his face. She backed away, turning her head to one side. Even in the dull moonlight, he could see a faint, rosy pink blush adorn her cheeks. She fidgeted nervously for a moment, and then suddenly turned completely, heading toward the far side of the clearing they had come to.

"I-I'm going to get a drink from the river," she said in a shuttering voice, practically running toward where the river could be heard beyond the veiling of thick, exotic foliage. "I'll be right back."

He started to stand, groaning as he exercised the wounded shoulder, but she shot him a warning glance just as she was about to pass through the underbrush.

"I'll be fine."

"But-!"

"Someone has to watch Malon. I'll be right back, promise."

And with that, she was gone, disappearing beyond the thick green.

What was that all about? He wondered. She hadn't reacted to a kiss like that in years. Of course the first few times had been awkward, but that had quickly faded. Now she was acting as if she barely knew him, or wished she didn't. Had he done something wrong? Had the wound bothered her that much? Or was there something else wrong? Something she hadn't told him about…

* * *

The river turned out to be only a few minutes walk from where they had stopped. The water bubbled and sloshed in its slow travel, steady motion smoothing the stones that made up its bed. The ground along either side of the river's bed was soft, and mossy, and her gentle steps made impressions as she walked, approaching the water.

McKenna knelt at the waters' edge, simply sitting there for a moment. She closed her eyes, breath soft and shadow. Her shoulders suddenly trembled as her breath hitched, and the thick, painful lump in her throat overtook her, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. Quietly, she sobbed to herself, holding her head in her hands.

_Life just wasn't fair!_ She thought bitterly to herself, letting her sadness consume her. She had led a somewhat privileged life. Her adoptive father had made sure she was well taken care of, and that she had things that she wanted. Some might even go so far as to say that she was spoiled, although her friends assured her that she didn't act it. But the one thing she wanted more than anything, the one thing she had truly looked forward to, she couldn't have.

What did she do to deserve this? _What did I do? Did I do something to anger you, O Mighty Goddesses? Please, it's the only thing I want! If you are benevolent in any way shape or form, I beg you! I promise I'll be good forevermore!_ She screamed in her mind, tipping her head back and crying to the full moon that loomed hauntingly overhead, to the uncaring stars.

Something moved not more than ten feet away, and she stiffened, tears stopping altogether. She wiped her tears away, sniffling, and willed her eyes to come into focus, tears blurring her vision as she looked for what had moved, fearing that Jack had come to find her, and had witnessed her breakdown.

But it was not Jack. Nor was it Malon, or anyone she had ever seen before.

A woman was standing across the river from her. Her hair was as black as a moonless night, and cascaded down past her shoulder blades in tight, beautiful ringlets. A dark mauve dress clung low to her shoulders, leaving a large expanse of flesh exposed across her chest. The tight sheath of the dress's skirt had a long, narrow slit up one side, allowing the woman more flexibility in the otherwise confining outfit.

A few minutes of staring unsurely at the woman and McKenna noticed two details she did not like.

A jeweled rapier was attached to the black leather belt that was fastened around the woman's narrow waist, thin, double-sided blade glinting as the moon's rippling reflection on the water hit it, making the silver metal shine. Her eyes, curved and almond shaped, were a crimson the shade of blood, glistening like two unpolished rubies freshly unearthed from the side of a mountain.

Although McKenna had never personally seen a shadow before, Link, Malon and Jack had all regaled her with the frightening details of their mirror opposites. Although there were shadows that were kind, Link's shadow Dark and Malon's shadow Nola were perfect examples of this, meeting an unknown shadow was definitely cause for alarm. On a whole, they were a fiercer race, most of them being raised from young ages to cultivate deadly skills and almost inhuman attributes.

They were dangerous, and not to be trusted.

"W-who are you?" She managed to choke out, standing up straight. The shadow woman merely let her head tilt to one side in what would normally be seen as a sympathetic gesture.

She backed a few feet away, glancing once over her shoulder to search for the easiest route of escape. She could scream for Jack, but then the shadow might attack, and what's more, if this was a fluke, and she called Jack for nothing, he would see that she had cried.

Pride prevented her from crying out, but reaching one hand back to touch the trunk of the nearest tree, she braced herself for anything.

"It's still alive." The shadow woman finally said. Her voice was as smooth as freshly melted butter, and as melodious as the gentle cooing of a dove.

"What?"

"I said it's still alive."

"Still alive? What?"

The shadow woman chuckled softly, and with a sudden, graceful leap, she cleared the river in a single bound with an inhuman amount of agility. McKenna shivered as the woman sauntered in her direction.

"Who are you?" McKenna demanded, a little more boldly this time.

"My name's Lorelei."

"What do you want? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

The shadow placed a cold hand on the smaller girl's shoulder, and leered down at her with a sickening grin.

"You're my ticket in…"

* * *

**Not as action-y as normal. I had to plant some seeds, ok? I had to show that there are some internal things going on in what I call MJM...(Malon, Jack, McKenna)**

**And I also decided that Jack and McKenna need some love character wise too. I've been focusing on Malon recently, so they deserve some attention too. Plus there're some major twisty thingies comin' up soon!**


	16. Moths & Butterfly

**Ok, not much to say here this time. I actually updated within a week, which is cool. **

**Shout out to Link'sLily, who made and adorable sketch of Jack and McKenna. Please take the time to check that out, if you want to find it, I have a link to it, and all of the wonderful fanart she has done on my profile page. She's a great artist, I insist you check it out!**

**Also, my internet is being an ass, so it might take me a while to get back to reviews, and I don't have time to do much editing. I'll come back later to do that.**

* * *

Moths &amp; Butterfly

* * *

McKenna was taking too long. Where was she? Was she ok?

Jack's mind was racing. He fidgeted on the fallen log, looking constantly toward where McKenna had left. He knew that he was supposed to watch over Malon, who was still knelt against a tree. Since McKenna had left, the horses had tired of grazing, and both of them had gravitated toward where she was sat, Epona eventually having laid down beside, creating a "barrier" of sorts protecting her from the elements.

The mare could obviously sense that something was amiss with her mistress. Something truly terrible must have happened to her, if it could affect her so deeply that she seemed almost to be in a trance-like state, her eyes, on the very few occasions that she lifted her head, were almost lifeless, the normally rich, healthy sapphire blue of her irises had paled to a limpid azure, so colorless that he feared in a few mere moments they would turn to nothing more than a milky white.

But it was when a heart wrenching shriek cut through the thick silence like a knife aimed straight at his heart that without a moments' hesitation, he leapt to his feet, ignoring the pain in his freshly bandaged shoulder as he bolted toward the sound, recognizing it immediately as McKenna's voice. He burst through the underbrush that separated him from the narrow footpath that his wife had taken and sprinted down it full-bore, leaping over the gnarled, aboveground tree roots that threatened to trip the unwary in his frantic rush.

He reached the river in seconds, thick, black leather boots pounding against the mossy ground, and forcing him to throw out his arms as he dug in his heels, skidding a few inches as he attempted to stop quickly from his breakneck pace. His emerald eyes, tiny flecks of gold in the dark hued pools glittering like sunlight through a canopy of summer leaves, widened, and his heart jumped painfully into his throat.

McKenna was sprawled across the ground, lower half in the river's cruel, unforgiving grip. Her eyes were clamped shut, and despite the cold water rushing across her skin, sweat was dripping down her forehead, and behind her ears. The water that flowed down the river's jagged path was a strange pink color. Why was the water pink? It wasn't blood, was it?!

He leapt toward where she was laid, heels digging into the soft, damp moss and leaving deep marks in his wake. His hands instantly wrapped around her slender shoulders, grabbing hold and dragging her from the shallows, eyes darting all over her body in a frantic attempt to find what might have caused her to fall unconscious. He could find no wounds, no bruises, and no blood. Had she slipped on the smooth river rocks? He ran a hand across her head as he knelt, too worried to mind as the wet ground stained his trousers.

He could find not a single lump across the surface of her skull, ruling out the possibility of a fall.

"McKenna," he whispered, voice coming out hoarse and tense as he leaned low over her limp form. "McKenna, please wake up. You have to wake up."

He held a hand gently to the side of her neck, fingers pressed to one of the major veins there, praying to the Goddesses above that he would feel a pulse. Please, please let her be alive. He begged in his mind. He let out an audible sigh of relief when a very soft drumming was felt against the very tips of his fingers.

She was alive.

"Praise to Farore!" He breathed, scooping one arm under her back so that she was sitting upright against him, head resting against his shoulder. As he held her there, she actually started to wake, however slightly, and soft, incoherent mumbles escaped past her delicately closed lips.

"McKenna, wake up."

She murmured again, this time with a little bit more force, although what she was saying he still couldn't understand.

"McKenna, its ok. I'm here."

Slowly, after a few more moments, her brown eyes cracked open, and almost immediately, they darted in every direction. Suddenly meeting his own eyes, she let out a strange squeak of surprise and pushed both hands against his chest, trying to shove him away. But this only made him hold her tighter, eyes flashing with worry.

"McKenna? What's wrong?"

Finding that it was useless, McKenna instead clutched both hands over her heart, and shivered in his grip.

"Where am I?" She managed to gasp, voice trembling.

"It's ok sweetheart. Were in the Southern Swamp, remember?"

She looked around them for a moment, eyes taking in every detail of their surroundings. The thick willow trees, the off-colored river, the footpath that led to their makeshift camp. Slowly, she nodded.

"What happened? Did you fall?"

She shook her head.

"A strange woman appeared from the other side river," she started, voice quivering again. To emphasize, she pointed toward the thick overgrowth that grew on the riverbed. "She came over to me, and-and then…I don't remember."

She clasped both hands against her temples, eyes clamping shut again. She shook her head softly, as if maybe the motion would unlock her memory.

"I don't remember! She said her name, she said something else, she talked to me! But I can't remember! I don't remember at all Jack!"

She was growing more agitated by the minute, and sensing this, Jack tightened his arm around her shoulders, and gently kissed the top of her head.

"Don't worry about it," he murmured against her silky brown hair. "I'm sure it'll come back to you."

She suddenly stiffened against him, muscles going as rigid as planks of wood. He could feel her skin grown clammy beneath his touch, and pulling away slightly, he looked into her eyes. Out of the blue, they were suddenly consumed with total fear, so wide that he could see the miniscule blood vessels that were normally unseen, hidden beyond her skin.

"She was a shadow…"

* * *

She looked up, something had touched her knee. At first, she had ignored it, not wanting to talk to her companions at the moment, and expecting it to be either Jack looking for an explanation, or McKenna without a doubt wanting to ask some question or other. The younger woman saw her as almost a "mother" of sorts, asking her for advice for everything from romance, to feminine concerns. But right now, she didn't feel like talking at all. She wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. If she disappeared, then maybe she could forget the shadow Zauz's burning grip on her wrist.

The wound on her hand had since scabbed over, an ugly, crusty black substance covering the cut that Chesed's knife had made on her palm. But the shadow's touch lingered. And whenever she closed her eyes, she could see his narrow eyes the shade of freshly spilt blood leering at her, half-crazed hunger burning in the pools of his irises. She could still see him as he leaned toward her, licking his thin, pale lips in cruel anticipation.

But now the touch had grown more persistent, and more annoying. There was a moth perched on the bare skin of her knee. Two feathery antennae bobbed in her direction, sensing the larger presence it was resting on. Its spilt, furred wings the color of dust were folded over its back, and it scuttled slightly toward her face.

She had never been fond of moths. She didn't know why. There was just something about them, something about their haphazard fluttering that made her skin crawl. With a hand, she swung half-heartedly at the insect, willing it to fly away, to leave her alone. She just wanted to work things out in her own head.

But the moth merely moved out of the way of her hand, and landed in the exact same place when she drew back. She tried at it a few more times before giving up, tired and bored, muttering as she once again rested her forehead against her knees. "Ass."

A few minutes later, an annoying flutter met her ear, followed by something touching her neck. She jumped, and looking aside, she found that that it was just the moth. After flicking a wrist at it, she turned her head.

No, it was a new moth. The other moth was still perched on her knee.

Great, now there were two of them.

"Would you disgusting things leave me alone?" She asked of no one in particular. But even when she swatted at the two moths, they remained, dodging her strikes but staying close, as if drawn to her by some strange, ethereal force.

"Leave me alone!"

Malon squeaked when Epona suddenly rose to her hooves, a sharp whinny coming from inside the mare's throat. Her ears were pinned flat against her neck, and Malon had to jump to her feet and dodge out of the way to escape the mare's flailing hooves, the large horse turning quickly in place to face the opposite side of the thicket.

The moths fluttered toward her again, irritating her as she struggled to concentrate on why the two horses were both staring into the forest, ears pinned, and upper lips lifted. Epona and Cerus both snorted as yet more moths appeared, flying underneath branches and through the thorny underbrush, and to her dismay, they were headed directly for her. She backed away, but only made it a few feet before her back hit the trunk of a tree, and before she knew it, she was being swarmed by hundreds of moths.

Disgusting, fluttering, furry moths.

"Agh! Get away!" She yelped, clamping her eyes shut and swinging blindly at the clustering insects. More than anything, she wanted them gone. She wanted the moths to leave her alone. She wanted everyone to leave her alone!

Like a light in the darkness, however, a shimmer of blue caught her eyes as she cracked them open. But it was for only a moment that she glimpsed it, the blue quickly being swallowed up by the sea of fluttering, dust colored wings. She fought through the swarm, and then she saw it.

It was a butterfly. A single, beautiful blue winged butterfly amidst the sea of dull, disgusting moths. Its graceful and delicate were the deepest shade ultramarine, glittering like a gemstone amongst garbage. It was gracefully seated upon the floor, but when her eyes fell upon it, it seemed to take this as a queue of some kind, and with a few delicate flaps of its wings, it was level with her eyes. Gently, it touched her, landing on her forehead and sticking to her by ways unknown.

But as quickly as it had come, it left, although not of its own accord. Savagely, the moths chose to instead swarm the poor butterfly rather than her, and within seconds, the butterfly was lost in a thick, swirling swarm of wings.

Before she could act, the swarm dispersed slightly, fluttering off to land on branches and bushes. The butterfly was laid on the grass, dead. One wing had been completely ripped off, and the other bent in half, the thin blue membrane ripped and tattered as if made of paper. From the wounds, tiny trickles of bluish-black blood could be seen, the amount seemed so tiny, and yet the loss was so deadly to a creature of its size. Even in death, its legs twitched, hardwired to try and escape the already sealed fate.

The moths had killed the butterfly.

Never in her life had she heard of moths killing anything before, and now the swarm made her all the more nervous. She could practically feel their beady eyes staring at her. She could feel their bloodlust, and the horses could too. Beneath their silky pelts, the two horses' muscles tensed and flinched, eyes rolling toward where the multitudes of insects were perched, eying them tersely.

Something moved beyond the veil of underbrush and willow branches, snapping a twig beneath its weight. Whatever it was, it was tall. She could see its shadow move.

Like a gust of wind, the moths suddenly took flight, swiftly flitting toward whoever –or whatever- was stalking just outside her sight. When it darted past an open patch, she caught sight of a humanoid shape, although with her past, she did not jump to any conclusion.

The horses squealed and rose up onto their hind legs as the shape suddenly leapt into sight, landing only a few feet away from her.

It was a man. He was tall, insanely tall in fact. Probably close to seven feet tall. A wrapping of yellow, red and green fabric was wrapped around his waist, hanging down to just above his knees. His toned chest and arms were covered in intricate, raised tattoos, some were merely symbols, others more ornate pictures of almost anything and everything under the sun. And covering his face was a mask made of wood, red paint riming the edges and underneath the narrow black slits that allowed him to see.

In his hand, he held a long spear, the blade at the end tied to the staff with vines and rope.

The horses bolted, crashing through the thorny underbrush and leaving only a trail of hoof prints in their wake. Malon was left standing before the huge man, frozen with fear, staring into where his eyes should be.

A sizzling, popping sound slowly flooded her sense of hearing, and needing to find the source, she looked down. The grass beneath the man's feet was wilting, turning brown and dying beneath his presence.

A realization came to Malon in an instant, and her head whipped back so that she could once again look upon the man's masked face.

He was no man. He was a demon.

"Malon!" Two voices screamed in unison not far from her, one male, deep and strong, and one female, smooth as honeyed milk. But she could not tear her eyes away from the demon before her, his presence captivating her in all the wrong ways.

But the demon seemed unfazed by the three, looking upon them as if they were nothing more than ants trailing across his path.

Just as the demon was about thrust his spear forward, aimed straight toward Malon's chest, a flash of motion caught their attention, human and demon alike. Two unknown figures had burst through the underbrush.

One was a boy, probably close to age eighteen, with wild silver-gray hair that stuck straight up in gravity-defying angles. The only clothes he wore were a wrapping of brown fabric around his waist, and tattered pants beneath that. Otherwise, he was bare from head-to-toe, showing that his body was riddled with scars, bruises and bloody cuts. He had obviously suffered a great deal of damage, even at his young age.

The other was a girl, the same age. Her hair was brown, the same shade as the bark of the trees that surrounded them, and was tied behind her head in a long, thick braid that hung all the way down to the small of her back. She was clothed in a tattered dress, green as summer foliage. Several wilting flowers were attached to the dress along her bust line, once beautiful, but now only brown in shade, delicate petals shriveling.

"What the hell?" Jack breathed, instinctively pulling McKenna closer to him, arm tight around her waist. She didn't complain about this, either, pressing herself against him, worry and distrust sparking in her eyes as she glanced between the teenagers and the demon.

By an off chance, the demon happened to tip his head downward, and Malon looked on with curiosity as he stared at the dead butterfly. In the confusion, Malon had temporarily forgotten the butterfly, but as she watched, the demon seemed almost entranced by the damaged wings and crumpled body of the lifeless insect, by the tiny trickles of blue blood, and the legs that even in death, ever so slightly twitched every now and then.

But Malon was not prepared for what the demon did next. Everyone, even the two unknown teenagers, yelped when dark, booming laughter erupted from deep inside the demon's chest, and she couldn't hold back a shiver of disgust as the demon lifted a foot, and brought it crashing down on the butterfly's remains. When he stepped back, there was nothing left but a disgusting black pulp, ground deeply into the dying blades of grass.

"You there," the scarred boy yelled suddenly, taking Jack, Malon and McKenna by surprise. "If you want to live, then follow us! Odolwa will kill you if you don't!"

And with that, the two teenagers bolted, crashing through the underbrush with reckless abandon, ignoring as the sharp thorns dug into their exposed skin. Seemingly coming to a consensus without a word between them, all three shot into action, racing after the unknown boy and girl, dodging as the demon struck at them with his spear, and dashing into the dark night, listening as an enraged, ear-shattering roar sounded from behind them…

* * *

**'Kay, that was actually a very important chapter. There were actually a lot of hidden meanings and symbolisms in play here, and I'm a little worried they didn't come across, so I'm going to make a "key" for you all to help explain. Now, understand, I haven't taken any "Classes" in this stuff. Its all internet based research. If I got anything wrong, then please, feel free to correct me.**

**Symbolism and hidden meanings.**

**Moths represent change, and in certain cultures, death. Odolwa believes himself to be a god of death, and since his aura exudes this, the moths are naturally drawn to him, which he uses to his advantage. Moths clustering around Malon symbolize that she too, is feeling the burning effects of what darkness can do to one's heart, and the inherent struggle she is facing. It also symbolizes that with one simple event, she could potentially snap, and turn to darkness.**

**Butterflies represent the soul, and are a symbol of spirituality. When the Goddess Butterfly comes to Malon, it symbolizes hope in dire situations, and a time of great hopelessness and depression. It also draws upon the fact that deep inside of Malon, she is quite spiritual, and has been touched by the Goddess Termia, thus having been "marked" of sorts. **

**The moths attacking the Goddess Butterfly symbolize the inner struggle between light and darkness, and that often times, the darkness wins. This subconsciously effects Malon deeply, as she witnesses the innocent creature's brutal death, coming to a head when Odolwa crushes its remains beneath his foot, smothering the light and leaving only creatures of the dark side.**

**That was a lot of info, but I hope it helped clear some things up.**


	17. Poison

**Not much to say here, um, just...watch out for the language in this chapter. Normally I try to keep it at a minimum, but with the characters I'm working with, it just kinda...slipped out...**

* * *

Poison

* * *

"Nice," she murmured in a soft, smooth purr, pacing slowly around the man that stood there in the light of a single, low burning torch. He was tall, he had grown taller than her, thanks to her magic. His red hair was now hung down to the lobes of his rounded ears, each strand spiking outward from the center of his scalp. His face had become more angular, with a strong nose and chiseled jaw. "Very nice."

Her bare feet padded softly against the rough cobblestones, barely making a sound as she continued around him, examining ever feature with harsh, scrutinizing green-rimmed eyes.

"Do you remember who the enemy is?" She asked in a voice as smooth as freshly melted butter, stopping beside him and laying a delicate hand against his well-muscled chest. Her sharply pointed nails tapped against his dusky skin, gently dragging against him, but he did not even bother to flinch, only a slight nod of his head in response to her question proved that he was alive.

"The Fierce Deity Incarnate."

"Yes," She breathed, a crooked grin pulling at one corner of her mouth. "Where is he?"

"He is currently at Snowhead, waging battle against one of your disciples, Mistress."

"Excellent. And what must you do?"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, thick muscles tensing.

"I must go to the northern mountains, before the shadows get there," he answered, pale yellow eyes staring vacantly ahead. "And kill him."

She smirked, and lowered her head, a few strands of her violet shaded hair hanging loosely in front of her eyes and brushing against him. She looked up again, and patted his cheek with the other hand before striding away, lips gently parted, revealing the pointed teeth that hid beyond.

"Garo Master!" She called in a deeper voice, one that carried through the empty, hollow hallways of the Stone Tower. She allowed one hip to dip slightly in posture, resting her hand against the thin layer of deep magenta fabric that clothed her lower half, the darker waistband hugging low to her hips. She waited with an impatient tilt to her head, licking her lips lightly as a quick, stealthy padding met her sensitive ears.

Moments later, a cloaked figure emerged from beyond a tall archway, lengthy strides practically eating up the dark cobblestones beneath him. And in one fluid motion, he came to a halt, kneeling before her, cloaked head dipped in submission.

"Garo Master," she said again, eyes narrowing. "When I return, I want Malikai's steed ready, time is of the essence. The shadows are planning something, he has to get there before they do."

"Yes, Mistress Majora."

Smiling as the cloaked man straightened himself, she shouldered past him, heading for the archway, breathing deeply as the dank, spine-tingling scent of death met her nose. She took it in, eyelids fluttering shut. She actually enjoyed the scent. It smelled like victory. When the scent was particularly strong, she could see visions of battle, of her warriors charging the enemy, mercilessly striking them down until only her disciples remained.

"Malikai. Come."

His gait was swift, and with every step, his muscles tensed and stretched. His jaw was set in a firm, grim line as he followed her down what seemed to be a dozen dark, narrow passageways. Her steps made no sound as she trotted ahead of the younger man, long hair gently swaying with her bouncing, exuberant movements.

The hallways of the Stone Tower were damp, and occasionally, a droplet of dirty water would fall from somewhere above, or a gust of wind would whip savagely past the tower, whistling as it rushed past the rough stone walls. However, once in a blue moon, an even more frightful sound with echo through the empty halls. A bitter, lonesome moaning, a human's voice, a heartbroken cry that would send shivers down any normal person's spine.

But he felt no fear. He felt nothing at all. His pale eyes were focused entirely on Majora, watching her intently, following her as obediently as a dog. He followed her down several sets of stairs, keeping his footing despite the slippery moss that covered the steps.

She led him finally into a room near the bottom-most level of the tower, below ground, where it was so dark that despite his newly heightened senses, he could barely see a thing, and the scent of rotting flesh and dried blood was so strong it burned his lungs and threatened to choke him. But Majora seemed to not be affected in the least. She kept her gait, trotting through the dark with ease, and making several soft, bumping noises, which he could only assume was her looking for something.

A task that would have been impossible for him, given the pitch-black atmosphere.

But she seemed to have no trouble finding what she wanted. He couldn't see her, but when her hand came to once again rest on his shoulder, he could tell where she was. Her hand slowly trailed up his neck, until it found his ear, flicking a few stray locks of his hair aside.

Something sharp, sharper even than her nails, pressed against his earlobe, and seconds later, he involuntarily flinched as it was suddenly jabbed through his skin, making a hole clean through the bottom of his ear. He felt her pull the thin metal from his skin, only to press something else to the fresh wound. This time, he heard a subtly click, like a latch being closed, and felt whatever she had pressed into the wound stay there despite her hand being drawn away.

"There," she whispered, stepping away from him.

"What did you do?" He asked boldly, reaching up and feeling the strange object that was now attached to his ear.

"That's an earring, and a special one at that. Its called a Fire Shield Earring, and it will protect you from flames. Useful, given the path you're going to take to Snowhead."

He remained silent, thinking the strange piercing over as she moved silently around him. After a few minutes, she again broke the silence.

"Now, your steed will be waiting for you. I trust you can find your way to the entrance on your own?"

He merely nodded, only half listening at this point. The earring had begun to burn, and the surrounding area felt like it was on fire.

"Travel quickly, talk to no one, and get the job done. I'm counting on you," she was suddenly leaning against him, so that her lips were only inches from his ear. He could feel her steamy breath against his wound, only making it feel worse. "Fail me, and I will kill you myself."

And with that, she strode away from him, leaving him standing in the dark chamber alone, wounded ear still burning despite the earring's supposed protection…

* * *

They raced after the strange teenagers, hearts pumping, lungs burning, and legs stretching as far as they could go, trying desperately to get themselves as far away from the demon as they could. The two teenagers seemed to know the forest well, dodging expertly around tree after tree and leaping with reckless abandon through the thorny bushes, threatening to pull away and disappear into the dark.

_Was that the plan? Was this all a hoax that the demon had plotted? What if the two teenagers were nothing more that mirages, and they were merely leading them to their deaths?_ Malon wondered, only able to form half-thoughts as she ran, the rest of her mind being used to try and keep up with the swift pace. A soft glance to her left assured her that Jack and McKenna were keeping up, perhaps a little better than she was even. That was, until McKenna suddenly toppled forward, landing on her hands before anything else. She let out a cry, one more of shock than one of pain, but regardless, hit the ground with a soft thump.

Jack was the first to suddenly skid to a stop, by her side in an instant, and already gathering her in his arms, quick to scoop her up, bridal-style, and continue running, waving her to continue on as well.

"Jack-!" she could hear McKenna gasp in a breathless tone. "Jack, I can't feel my legs!"

"Its ok, I've got you." He breathed in reply, huffing as he ran.

She could still hear the demon, loud, rumbling grunts of frustration behind them, crashing through the thick forestation without any hesitation as to the damage it might cause. Yes, it was definitely still following them. She returned her gaze to the two fleeing backs of the teenagers, one scarred and bruised and burned, the other with the thick braid down her back.

But as she bolted around the trees, two glowing orbs suddenly caught her eye. She jerked her head to the left as she ran, and caught fleeting sight of two glowing yellow eyes, like miniature full moons piercing through the foliage, peering straight at her, and seeming to follow her as she moved. But she was forced to move on, and as she ran onward, the eyes vanished into the black of the night, as if it had been only a figment of her racing mind.

It very well may have been, she didn't completely believe anything in her current state of mine.

The teenagers made a sudden, breakneck turn to the right, skidding around a particularly thick willow tree and continuing to race along the wet, muddy shore of a massive river. The river was a great deal wider than the river that McKenna had gone to, and twice as deep, but one thing was the same.

The water's color was a sickly pink, bubbling and sloshing and in some places splashing ashore. When this happened, the two teenagers seemed to quickly change course, avoiding contact with the water at all cost.

Not a one of them understood why the two would avoid the water's touch, but not wanting to find out, given the possibilities, they too followed suit, jumping aside when the water splashed toward them. In the distance, a strange shape could be seen, a few high points clawing at the night sky like the claws of a monster unseen. And the pair seemed to be headed directly for it. The river suddenly took a jarring turn to the left, leaving them behind as they continued straight.

As they neared the strange shape, it became clear to Malon that it was the ruined remains of a palace. The wooden walls that had probably once stood, tall and proud, were now charred and fallen to the marshy ground below, lain to waste, and nothing more than shadows of the past. The teenagers bolted through the burned, collapsed remains, further into ruins, bounding over the ground with swift, heavy strides, running so fast the appeared to eat up the ground.

They were led through what appeared to be several burnt hallways, probably corridors at one time, until they suddenly disappeared down a rickety flight of stairs that led deep down below the ground.

It was there that the three of them stopped, Jack looking to her for what to do. Malon peered down the staircase. It seemed to built out of hardened dirt, cut out of the ground to form a narrow passageway deep under ground. She couldn't see the end of the tunnel, and the two teenagers had long disappeared beyond her view. She could only hear their faint footsteps, and even those were rapidly growing fainter and fainter.

She suddenly, however, made her decision to follow them into the dark when a vicious, bloodthirsty roar came from the riverside. The demon had caught up with them, and she was the last person to stay and wait idly by when there was a chance of escape. Albeit, a strange, slightly frightening way of escape, but it was an escape, so she took it.

The dirt steps shifted beneath her feet as she pounded quickly down them, having to duck slightly so as to not bump her head against the low ceiling. The darkness made it hard for her to guess her steps, though, forcing her to go slower than she would have liked. In all reality, she wanted to run as fast as she could, fly so fast that nothing could keep up with her, nothing could affect her, so that she didn't have to think.

She didn't want to think, the only thoughts that came to her mind made her feel quite ill. The shadow Zauz was still locked in her mind despite the new demon that was pursuing them, but now other thoughts were beginning to bother her. _Were Kara and Rinku alright? What if something happened at Romani Ranch while she was away? Could Cyrus handle three rambunctious children all on his own? Especially since he was still grieving over Cremia?_

Her mind was reeling with terrible possibilities, but to her great relief, she wasn't allowed the time to ponder them any more than she already had, as McKenna screamed behind her, and she could hear Jack gasp, and quicken his pace. Seconds later, the ceiling lifted up from above her, revealing a fiendish wooden mask, old, weathered and peeling red paint lining the edges. A swarm of dust colored moths fluttering wildly around him as he loomed over the staircase.

"The demon-!" McKenna shrieked, turning in Jack's arms, and burying her face against his chest, trembling. A low string of curses slowly passed Jack's clamped teeth as he stared defiantly up at the demon, mind racing to come up with the best escape. After a few moments of thought, Malon made the decision for him, racing further down into the earth below, and trusting her judgment, he followed, missing the demon's spear my only a mere inches' margin.

They ran as fast as their exhausted legs would carry them down the stairs, not daring to look behind them as they raced. There were a few shuffling sounds, an ear-shattering roar, and then silence, only broken by their pounding feet and heavy breaths.

Far ahead, they could faintly make out a light, a small, flickering flame atop a single torch.

The two teenagers were waiting for them there, where the stairs ended and the passageway widened out into a small, rounded-off den. There were a few piles of dried yellow grass on the dirt floor, but that was all, other than a meager pile of food and a few scattered rocks.

"Who are you two?" Jack demanded in a firm tone, tightening his hold on McKenna, and planting himself in front of Malon, whilst the teenage boy placed himself between them and the girl. Both males stared defiantly at each other, Jack silently mouthing a few warnings.

For the first time, Malon got a good look at the boy. He was well muscled, but slender, with large, thick, reddish-gray burn marks that wrapped all the way from collarbone to ribs, and snaked down his arms, tapering off and fusing with his skin-tone just short of his palms. As he stared at Jack, his shoulders tensed, strong tendons in his neck shuddering as he flexed his arms at his sides, brazenly egging him on. His narrow, almond-shaped eyes flashed with a fierce, primal impulse, his youth only fueling the fire that burned inside him.

Jack remained more collected than the younger boy before him, although McKenna could feel him tense beneath her, his body reacting to the strange, potentially dangerous youth in a defensive manner, muscles growing terse and twitchy, the slightest touch causing his skin to jump like a horses' pelt did when a fly landed upon it. His jaw stiffly clamped shut, he stared the boy down, his intense green eyes glinting, cautioning the boy to chose his battles carefully.

His eyes flashed as the boy took one step toward him, yellow, animal-like eyes flaming with territorial anger as Jack refused to back down, or to at least show submission.

"Touch either of 'em and die, boy." Jack barked, backing up so that Malon was only inches from him, and lowering his head slightly, partially shielding McKenna and his arms tightened so much so that he forced an uncomfortable squeak from her.

The boy tilted his head slightly, and a crooked, condescending smile graced his slim lips.

"Me? Want either of them? Pfft. I don't want them. If anything, a little gratitude would be nice. We saved your sorry asses, and now are hideout has been found out, it's the least you bastards could muster up."

"Watch your mouth, kid. One more remark like that and I'll rip that sharp tongue of yours clean out."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Don't make me laugh, shrimp. I could snap your neck like a toothpick!"

"Jack!" McKenna suddenly shouted, squirming in his ever-tightening arms. She grabbed him by the collar, and pulled his gaze forcefully so that it met her own. "Knock it off!"

The teenage girl, who had for the most part, remained neutral in the argument, grabbed the boy by the shoulder, and yanked him back, a reserved ferocity deep in the pools of her brownish-green eyes. Her delicate lips were curled down into a frown, her head tilting forward in an angry pout as she glared at from under her partially closed eyelids.

"Calm down." She commanded plainly, barely opening her mouth and eyes unblinking as he stared back at her. Finally, after several terse moments, the boy's shoulders slumped, and instead of looking again toward Jack, he stamped over to one of the larger rocks and sat down, growling softly, annoyed, to himself.

She, after making sure he was controlled, turned to the three of them, a few loose strands of her hair falling in front of her eyes as she did.

"You're lucky we bumped into you there. The demon you saw would have killed you if we hadn't," she said softly, taking a few careful steps toward them. "Don't mind him," she pointed toward the boy, who at her words, scoffed, looking away. "He's just been through a lot. He doesn't always get along with strangers."

Malon looked at the girl. She couldn't be more than eighteen years old, her face still contained a young, rounded look, especially through her cheeks. But her nose and chin had started to take on the more angular shape of adulthood, giving the girl an air of maturity that should not have come from her age. The anger and threatening had drained from her eyes, and revealed an unsettling look. One of pure unbridled depression, as if at any moment she would break into tears, that she was barely hanging onto sanity, clinging to reality.

"If I may, why did you come here? People have been avoiding this forsaken place for years because of the legends, what brings you to a place like this?"

Malon exchanged a glance with Jack, before answering. "A group of shadows brought me here," she started, looking only once at the young girl, before watching as Jack, gently as possible, set McKenna on her feet, still holding her shoulders. She wavered where she stood, before collapsing against his chest, grabbing the fabric of his shirt, desperately to prevent herself from falling. He gasped when she did, and quickly sunk down to his knees, allowing her to rest her weight against him.

The girl cocked an eyebrow at her, a quizzical expression crossing her face.

"Shadows? What are those?" She asked, a child-like curiosity in her depressed eyes.

"Oh. Shadows, they-uh…they're a different race of people." Malon answered half-heartedly, her attention being drawn away, and instead focusing it on her companions. McKenna had buried her face against Jack's chest, clutching his shirt like a sleepy child. Her shoulders trembled, even as he held her, and as her eyes came into focus, she saw that a thin layer of sweat had covered every inch of her skin despite the slight chill of the underground den.

"McKenna? What's wrong?" She heard Jack ask, and watched as he shook her gently by the shoulders.

"McKenna?"

The teenage girl watched with reservation as they clambered over their suddenly ill companion, somehow desensitized to their worry.

"McKenna?!" Jack's voice had risen in pitch, desperation dripping from his tone. He pulled her gently from his shirt, and found that her eyes were closed, lips ever so slightly parted. Her cheeks, forehead and ears had darkened in hue, to a rosy red color, sweat drenching her hair and making it stick to her skin as she lay limp in his grasp.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked, sincere concern in both his voice and eyes as he turned his head toward Malon. She shook her head softly, not having the foggiest idea what might have caused such a quick decline in health.

"I-I'm sorry Jack. I really don't know…" She said to him, voice dying off. Both she and Jack looked up quickly when the teenage boy rose to his feet, clearing his throat to draw their attention. He padded across the dirt floor, stopping only a few feet away from them and shrugging off the warning look that the girl gave him.

"She's poisoned."

Jack snorted, and laid McKenna down on the ground, resting her head on his lap, running his fingers through her sweat-soaked hair.

"What are talking about, kid?"

"She's been poisoned. Did she touch the water? Or ingest it?"

"The…water?"

The boy rolled his eyes in annoyance, and placed both balled fists firmly against his hips.

"Yes, the water. The water here is poisonous. Did she touch it? Or drink it?"

"I-uh…I don't know. I know she touched it but-"

"You mean you let your girlfriend go to get a drink on her own? In a place like this?" The boy scoffed, his condescending smile returning.

"She's my wife, I'll have you know," Jack retorted, a snarl curling across his lips. "But I didn't _let_ her go anywhere on her own, she wouldn't _let_ me come."

"Hmm."

"Just assume she did drink it, then!"

The boy walked away, over to the meager pile of food in one of the far corners, and grabbed a strange, yellowish fruit, shaped-somewhat like a pear but obviously not the same. He returned, and handed Jack the fruit.

"Mush that up and put it in her mouth, she'll at least get some of the juices. Is she younger than you?"

Jack's face turned to one of suspicion and slight annoyance.

"Yeah, so what if she is?"

"Oh don't get your pants in a twist. The poison affects kids and teens harder than adults. How old is she? Eighteen?"

"Twenty-one."

They went silent as Jack set about mashing the fruit in his palms and ever so gently putting the results in her mouth, underneath her tongue, where she could get the most out of it.

"Is she pregnant?"

His head jerked toward the boy, eyes wide. Heat rose to his cheeks, and as he met the boy's eyes, a strange look appearing in his own green eyes, almost darkening in hue. He held the boy's gaze for a moment, before looking away, back to McKenna's face.

"Uh, no. I-I really don't think so."

"Good. The poison can kill a baby if it's early into the first trimester."

They went silent again, the boy meandering back over the rock and sitting down on it, looking at their group occasionally, but otherwise staying as far as he could from them, only uttering a small, guttural noise of interest as the teenage girl came over to sit beside him on the floor. As Malon looked at McKenna, still nervously glancing toward the boy, she noticed that the fruit seemed to have actually done some good. Her temperature had gone down, the color had faded from her face, and the sweating had slowed, but now her skin was pale, and clammy to the touch.

"Will the fruit counteract the poison?" She asked, not meeting anyone's gaze in particular.

"No."

The boy's harsh tone and even harsher words cut through the silence, forcing both her and Jack to look at him once more.

"It won't counteract the poison. It only stalls the effects. All you can do is hope that she's strong enough to pull through," he said, glancing at her limp form. "Don't get your hopes up. She's so scrawny, I think even the smallest dose would be deadly to-"

"That's enough!" Jack shouted, cutting him off. In his eyes fierce discontent burned, and with a hand on either side of McKenna's face, he growled angrily at the boy, whose head had finally turned toward him, eyebrows raised arrogantly with interest. "I don't know what your problem is, but if you're going to be a moody teenager with a bad attitude, then go do it somewhere else! I've been through more in the last six years than you've been through in a lifetime, so shut the hell up!"

Malon's eyes subtly widened, not expecting such an outburst from him, but still understanding why he would react in such a way. It was how he dealt with fear. He was afraid, and his emotions had come to a rolling boil, spilling over the edges.

She was about to reach out to him, try and comfort him, when a strange, yet soft sound drew her attention away. She looked over her shoulder, toward the stairs that led aboveground, and stiffened at what she saw.

For a moment, she feared that it was the demon peering back at her, but moments' more of watching proved to her that it was not. The eyes of his mask were a soulless and black, making it impossible to see his actual eyes. But the eyes that stared back at her now were bright yellow, two glowing orbs like miniature moons perched on the dirt staircase. Whatever they were, either god or demon, they weren't human…

* * *

**Character songs:**

**Jack**

**I Bet My Life by Imagine Dragons**

_**This song is probably my second favorite from Imagine Dragons. It really fits his character, seeing as in my mind, I portray him as a character that acts carefree but has a lot of demons.**_

**McKenna**

**Roller-coaster by Bleachers**

_**And this song is a really fun song. Its got a great guitar rift, and a great rhythm to it. I kind of view it as McKenna being the narrator, the song being her talking about Jack. That's just how I view it. I hope you all check these out. And yes, you can all say it. I'm an Indie freak. I'm not a big fan of recycled Lamestream music is all. Frankly I think a lot of the artists on mainstream radio are overrated.**_

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**-DJ MICKEY (Guest). Thank you for the review and for being a fan! I'm glad to hear that you like my writing and style, as it is something I doubt occasionally. I'm also glad to hear that you are also interested in writing your own story. Its a great experience, I definitely recommend it. As for any advice to give, hmm...**

**I guess one of the most important things, obviously, is grammar. Its not hard once you learn it, but it is something that is worthwhile to learn, if you want to write to the best of your ability. Another obvious one is punctuation. Otherwise, plot is very important. I suggest sitting down and thinking through your ideas. Maybe write them down on index cards and lay them out how you want the story to flow. Its not something that I do, but its something I've heard works for others. Also, really think about your characters, give them as many layers as possible, really think about how each character would react when you put them into any situation. I've never been good at giving writing advice, but I hope I helped you. I would've sent advice in a PM, but I'm afraid I can't do that if you don't have an account.**


	18. Beyond The Veil

**Hey everyone. Sorry I've been so quiet. I'm just so tired! I haven't been getting very good sleep lately, and things are just crazy and hectic and stupid here, so I haven't had much writing time. I have an important notice for everyone who follows, reads this story at the bottom.**

**But while I'm here...**

**Shout out to Courage of Awesome! Check out her DeviantART page. She's a great artist, I hope everyone takes the time to check out her "Awesome" artwork! XD**

**I don't have much time for editing, so I apologize in advance for any typos, grammar mistakes or misspellings!**

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Beyond The Veil

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"You are very strange," the thick, rumbling voice mused aloud from beyond the veil of shadowy darkness. It was a loud voice, echoing against the cave walls and hurting his ears. There was no backing out now. "You are neither human, nor god. What are you?"

He swallowed. His throat felt thick as he did.

"My name is Luca. Son of fallen war hero Luca, and patron Goddess of Hyrule and Goddess of The Heavens, Hylia." He answered, keeping his silver-hued eyes trained intently on the shadows just but twenty feet away from him. If he watched carefully, he could see an occasional shimmer, the sheen of a claw catching the sun's rays, or an eye glinting through the darkness as the creature hidden moved.

"You are a demigod."

He merely nodded, wondering what the voice belonged to. The legends had never mentioned the face of the deity of the mountains. There were multitudes of legends telling of the creature that presided over the mountains, but no man had ever laid eyes on the creature's face. Or at least, no man had ever laid eyes on it and lived to tell the tale.

Legends told that the Creature of The Mountains was an all-mighty deity, blessed with its power by the Goddesses of Hyrule, Termina and The Dark World.

"Why call upon me, child of mortal and divine blood? Have you not heard the legends that surround this place?"

"No doubt you have seen the sky, O Mighty Beast." He answered curtly, letting the faintest shadow of a grin curl across his lips.

"For a thousand years, I have remained in this cave, never to step outside the safety of the shadows. I can sense a strange force beyond this place that I call home, but I dare not step beyond the veil. You will have to be more specific."

"Outside the safety of your cave, the moon looms overhead even in the light of day. With each passing hour it grows larger. Soon, it will fall, and all life with cease to exist. I have come to seek your assistance."

"I do not assist humans. Humans are not trust worthy." The creature said, venomous annoyance evident in his tone. But Luca could only smirk softly.

"You yourself said that I was not human. And if you refuse to help, then you shall die as well."

From beyond the shadows, a frustrated huff, rumbled from inside the creature's chest, and as he stood there, at the entrance to cave, a clicking sound came from in front of him, also from the creature. The sharp tips of massive claws suddenly broke through the veil of shadows, revealing the deadly weapons that belonged to the creature that still remained hidden. But that too, would not be for much longer.

Next, it was the thick bases of the creature's legs, massive and muscular and covered in transparent white scales. Each scale rippled as the muscles beneath flexed, slowly bringing the creature into the light of day for the first time in a thousand years.

He stood his ground as the creature came into full view, striding easily toward him on its massive legs. Its head was angular, coming to a point at the tip of its lengthy, scale-covered muzzle. When it opened its mouth, one hundred yellowing fangs revealed, blocking in its long, forked reptilian tongue. Its eyes were narrow, with black slits for pupils, a mixture of yellows and greens making up the color of its irises.

It was a dragon.

"The legends that surround this place say that any man who could kill me would have my powers bestowed upon him, and by fashioning my hide into armor, they would become immortal. Many men, hundreds, perhaps even thousands, have called upon me, challenging my strength."

He glanced subtly over his shoulder, toward the jagged, switchback path that was carved into the mountainside, the path that had led him here, to where the dragon now stood before him.

"There's no one here," he said, almost in an undertone, to the beast. To which, the beast lowered his great head, his forked tongue flicking out like a snake's would, and an almost demonic look shone unsteadily in its greenish-yellow reptilian eyes. "I never passed a village."

The dragon lowered his head further, until the pointed tip of its massive snout was only inches from his face. Its breath was steamy, and hot, and smelled distinctively of sulfur. The beastly dragon licked his yellowing fangs, and smirked devilishly.

"I ate them all."

He reached out and touched the dragon's scales, not flinching as the beast snapped his fangs together, threatening him.

"Why would you risk your life to save your world, half-blood? What have they done for you?" the beast questioned, watching his face intently. "Your body is littered with scars, and your chest is wrapped with bloody cloth. The people you strive to protect are trying to kill you. They see you as a monster, a demon. Why should you care for them?!"

He swallowed again, eyes closing as he mulled over the great lizard's words.

"People are naturally fearful of what they cannot understand. They cannot, or will not, believe who I am, and act accordingly. I do not blame them. They are trying to protect themselves, its human nature."

The beast hissed softly, mocking him harshly.

"You act so at peace, and yet you have come here with the exact same intentions as any other man. You have come here to kill me."

"No, I have not. I didn't come here to kill you, Fierce Deity of the Northern Mountains. I have come here after hearing stories of your strength, hoping that you might be able to aid me. I was apparently mistaken. You are not as benevolent as Mother claimed."

The beast's ears flicked backward, toward the thick base of his neck, and a low rumble came from deep inside his voice box. It almost sounded shameful. He moved aside slightly, and revealed a long, jagged scar that stretched all the way from the two spindly horns that protruded from the rounded base of his skull, to the ankle of his right leg.

"I cannot trust a human, even if you are only a half-breed. Even if you were a full-blooded god, I would not be able to help you, at least not without a heavy price. My powers would kill you."

"I have nothing to lose."

The dragon's head withdrew, tilting to one side and the opposite eye narrowing with misguided curiosity.

"You want me to bestow my powers upon you anyway? Haha! What a foolish half-blood you are! My powers would kill even the most powerful god, let alone a mere bastard child of a fallen war hero and a Patron Goddess. It would destroy you, painfully, and quite utterly. I cannot help you. Leave, or I shall eat you, like the other hundreds of men."

And with that, the beast curled around like a snake, and disappeared once more into the shadows, leaving him to stare, somewhat disgruntled, beyond the veil…

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The glowing eyes peered back at her from the dirt staircase, piercing through the blackness and giving Malon the sensation that the pair of topaz-yellow orbs were staring straight through her skin and into her soul.

Every muscle in her body tensed as the orbs remained deathly still, never once blinking as she looked at them, her breath hitching painfully in her throat. Jack was to preoccupied with McKenna to notice, but the two teenagers noticed, the girl jumping to her feet like a fawn startled out of its hiding place amongst the sun-speckled forest floor, greenish-brown eyes suddenly wide with fear. The boy rose more reservedly, but quickly swung a muscled arm out in front of the girl, lowering his head until his neck was no longer visible, one corner of his lip raising in a warning snarl.

"Woman, don't move." The boy hissed through his clamped-shut teeth to her. For a moment, she didn't realize why she shouldn't move, it wasn't until the eyes moved, growing larger as whatever they belonged to approached, stepping from the stairs and slowly entering the amber light of the torch that she knew why.

The miniature moons belonged to a panther. An enormous panther, with a coat of pure, silky ebony, thick, powerful tendons flexing beneath its pelt with each smooth stride it took toward them. It was three times the size of a normal panther, its humped shoulders coming to the height of a fully-grown man's chest with ease, and when it lifted its head, she thought, it could reach a person's throat without even having to jump.

Within its massive maw, yellowing fangs were lodged firmly in the pink flesh of its gums, dried blood clinging to its teeth, a thick, sandpaper tongue running along the deadly sharp points as it approached, as if anticipating its next meal with a cruel, devilish delight. Perhaps it was already deciding on which of them to eat first. Would it eat the first it came to? Or eat the one it suspected would taste the best? Or maybe it did not care for taste, here only for the thrill of a human's dying shriek, the last thrashing of a human's limbs in foolish desperation, and the spurt of fresh, metallic blood within the cavity of its throat.

"What is it?" The teenage girl inquired to the boy under her breath. He merely gave the slightest shake of his head, watching with his narrow eyes as the panther stopped only inches from Malon.

Its breath was hot, and smelled acridly of death and fresh blood, and a shiver ran down her spine as the beast leaned its rounded head toward her, sniffing her face, and then her neck. A rumble rose from its throat, although she could not tell whether it was one of aggression, or kinship.

Glancing aside, Jack then noticed the beast, and let out a reflexive yelp when his eyes met those yellow orbs so intense as to send shivers down the spines of those who looked upon them, and instinctively he shielded McKenna, leaning low over her body to provide a layer of protection from the massive beast.

It became apparent that the beast did not appreciate sudden movements, lunging forward and snapping warningly at him when he moved to protect McKenna. Its fangs clamped together on the air just above the back of Jack's neck, and the muscles in its own neck quivered as it prepared to lunge. Before it could, however, she scrambled to her feet, throwing her arms out wide, drawing the beast's anger upon herself instead.

The panther let loose a howling screech, leaping at her with paws forward, claws drawn and mouth wide open, lips curled back and yellow eyes narrow with anger.

She stumbled back, dodging the beast's claws by mere inches as it jumped at her again and again, quickly cornering her against the wall, the two teenagers bolting out of the way before her back hit the wall, leaving her no means of escape.

The panther stopped in front of her, lifting its head so that its fangs were only inches from her exposed throat. She stared straight into its yellow orbs as it hissed softly, a few droplets of saliva landing on her skin.

But there was an almost human-like quality to the beast's eyes, as she forced herself not to look away, to stare it down. If she was going to die, she wasn't going to give it the satisfaction of her submission.

_"…__Do you fear me human?"_ An ethereal voice rang in her ears, but no one else seemed to hear it. It was deep, and reverberating, but had the air of a female's tone if she listened closely. Looking into the panther's eyes, she came to assumption that it had indeed been the beast that had spoken to her.

After a moments thought, she shook her head, causing the beast to lower its head, eyes narrowing and a wicked grin seeming to pull at its lips despite it's not being human.

"No."

The panther's tail swished softly in thought as it peered at her, as if ruminating heavily over the simple, single word she had given. It's thick pink tongue darted out, licking its lips with interest. She stayed still, back pressed against the dirt wall, breath short and shallow as she watched the giant beast, watched as it swayed slightly on the balls of its paws, and soft, chortling sounds rumbled from deep inside its thick barrel chest.

In a single, swift motion, the beast leapt at her, snarling. She flinched, eyes snapping shut out of instinct and making a soft gasping sound of shock as the beast leapt at her, lunging at her neck with its mouth wide open. She felt a tug on her neck, and waited in fearful anticipation for the beast's claws to rip into her flesh.

But it never happened. She could hear Jack, and the two teenagers gasp, but waited several minutes more before she dared open her eyes. She was met directly by the panther's glowing yellow orbs, only inches from her face. It took only a single glance downward, toward her chest, to reveal what had tugged on her neck.

The panther's jaws were firmly closed around her Mother's pendant. The one she had received six years prior in the Gerudo Desert. The one she still firmly believed had been passed on to her by her Mother's own hands.

With a sharp yank more, the rough white twine the fastened the Gerudo pendant around her neck snapped, and with that, the beast turned and bolted, racing past Jack, McKenna and the two teenagers without a second glance, charging up the dirt staircase and leaving nothing in its wake but large paw prints.

"No! Don't take that!" she shouted after the panther, but by then it was too late. She pushed herself off of the wall, and jumped into a breakneck dash after the beast, up the stairs without thinking about the demon that might be waiting beyond the shelter of the underground den. "Please-!"

"Malon! Don't-!" Jack cried after her, trying to stop her before she left, but with McKenna unconscious on his lap, he was unable to chase after her. Nor was he willing to leave her alone with the untrustworthy teenage boy. But the other, the girl, acted in his stead, hiking up the tattered skirts of her dirt-covered dress and bounding off toward the stairs.

The teenage boy grabbed her arm, sudden fear appearing in his animalistic eyes.

"Princess Morika-! She's not worth it!" He yelled at her. Mere seconds after the words passed his lips, he seemed to realize the weight of his words, and an apologetic look found its way to his face. The girl's head had whipped toward him when he uttered her name, and her elegant eyebrows lowered, till her eyes were nothing more than dangerous slits. Inside, she seemed to be fuming.

"Don't call me that!" she snapped. "That title means nothing! Now let me go Monek!"

She ripped her arm from his grip, and turned once again toward the stairs, quickening her pace to make up for lost time...

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**Ok so here's the important notice:**

**I'm going on hiatus. Just for a week, or maybe two. I need some time to catch up on things. I have to catch up with all of Courage of Awesome's stories (Which, btw, are great, check them out too!) and I want to make fanart for both Link'sLily and Courage of Awesome. And I just plain need a little break. Ok? I promise I'll be back as soon as I feel up to it. Two weeks. MAX.**

**And a little clarification, the first scene, with Luca and the dragon, may seem a bit sudden, but trust me, its important to the plot, and will be tied in with everything else at the end of this part. Sorry for any confusion.**

**Thank you all for your support and understanding! I can't thank everyone enough! Oh, and more character songs while I'm here!**

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**Character song:**

**Monek**

_**Supermassive Black Hole **_**by** _**Muse.**_

**Part Two: Anger**

_**Hey I Don't Know **_**by**_** The Kongos**_


	19. Glass Hearts Break Easy

**I'm back! Early! I'm happy! I actually got some sleep, I feel better than I did last time, life's lookin' up. Anyway, here you go. The next chapter in this crappy arc. Watch out, its long, and might be a little confusing. Idk...**

**Also, the italics are a flashback, in case it confuses anyone.**

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Glass Hearts Break Easy

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She raced up the dirt stairs, feet pounding as hard as her heart was hammering against her chest. She couldn't loose that pendant. It was the last thing she had of her mother. When her mother had been killed, the ranch had been burnt to the ground, and when her father had returned with her, and her sister Cremia, nothing had been left untouched by the fire's cruel, deadly touch. They had had to rebuild everything, and everything that her mother had owned had been burnt into nothing.

So she wasn't about to lose the pendant to a panther, and at the moment, with her lack of sleep, and the shadow Zauz's fierce, hungering gaze burnt permanently into her mind, she recklessly raced after the huge predator, back above ground and through the palace ruins, path lit only by the light of the full moon that loomed overhead with a haunting air. The panther was not only larger than the average, but seemed to be faster, too, zooming through the ruins at a pace that seemed too quick to even be physically possible.

It seemed to be nothing more than a streak of shining ebony fur racing through the darkness of the late night, leaping over the rubble and racing into the thick foliage that lay beyond the wastes. If she listened carefully, she could hear faint footfalls behind her, but she was too concentrated on the panther, trying desperately to keep her eyes trained on the bolting figure of the beast.

But just before she feared that it would disappear beyond the layer of thick vegetation, it suddenly pulled to a halt, stopping just before the underbrush, shoulders still arched, ever muscle ready to burst into action at the slightest prompting, but its head swiveled around toward her, yellow eyes trained on her, watching as she drew nearer, the wooden pendant still dangling from its clamped-shut jaw.

As soon as she drew near, the panther started off again, bursting through the underbrush as soon as she caught up. The stop and go pace continued on for several minutes, the panther leading the way, stopping just before it would race out of sight and wait for her to catch up. It either wanted her to follow it, or it was teasing her.

She wasn't sure which.

She never once glanced back, never looking to see the face of whoever was following her, but by the sound of soft footsteps, and quiet breathing that it was the teenage girl.

The panther led her deeper and deeper into the forest, always changing directions when she least expected it, but never letting her fall too far behind. The path it led seemed completely arbitrary, zigzagging every which way in a mind-boggling maze over fallen logs and under low hanging branches and through thick thorny brambles that left red, aching scratches on her skin as she followed, as if reminders that she was still human.

The panther seemed not to notice the thorns, or otherwise did not care.

Just when her mind began to wander, and suspicious thoughts began to worm their way into the back of her mind, making her start to doubt her choice, making her feel somewhat foolish for racing, foolhardy, after a gigantic predator just to retrieve a trinket that was hardly worth a single rupee, the panther led her through the thickest patch of bramble yet. And what she saw when she opened her eyes again, detaching herself from the sticky fingers of the thorns, she could hardly believe.

It was a clearing, where the thick, tendril-like canopy of willow branches parted above her, allowing the light of the full moon the filter down from the black velvet sky above and glimmer against the crystal clear pond at the center.

A few lily pads floated on the waters surface, but otherwise, the water was some of the clearest Malon had ever seen in her life. At the opposite side of the pond, a granite statue stood, resting on a pedestal, around which shallow water ebbed.

The statue depicted what Malon suspected was a young woman, standing with a wide, powerful stance, both hands resting on the hilt of a sword, tip buried into the ground. On her shoulders, heavy armor rested, and her hair, although made of stone, had been crafted so elegantly that it seemed to be caught in the middle of a gust of wind. If the statue hadn't been made of a single-hued stone, she would have thought that the woman was real.

The panther stalked smoothly around the edge of the pond, soft chortling noises yet again coming from deep inside its solid throat as it swung around the statue several times. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn the beast was purring as it butted its head against the hard backs of the statue's hands.

"I thought this was only a myth!" A young, but vaguely familiar voice said from just behind her. She tipped her head toward the person, and finally saw that her suspicions had been correct. It was in fact the teenage girl. Her brownish-green eyes were even wider than her's had originally been, and inside the depressed irises, child-like wonder sparkled for the first time. She looked at the clearing with her mouth agape, hands dropping to her sides.

"Human of foreign blood," the ethereal voice said again. For a moment she believed it was only in her head, but when the teenage girl snapped to attention as well, she realized that the panther had spoken aloud. "Do you have any idea what this place is?"

"This place is-" The teenage girl started to answer for her, but the panther spat a quick growl of warning, silencing her.

"No, do not answer for her. Let her guess."

Malon looked closer at the statue. Although it was in a script that she could not read, there was writing at the bottom of the statue, below the woman's feet.

"This place is a grave."

The panther snorted, somewhat conceitedly.

"You may not be one of my people, but you do seem to have a bit of brain. This place memorializes a woman named Katurah. She long ago saved the people of this place, the Southern Swamp. I long ago fought by her side, since then she has passed, many years ago. I remain, and guard her final resting place." The beast murmured. It suddenly threw its head toward them, opening its mouth and flinging the Gerudo Pendant back to her. "Why would you follow me for such a simple item?"

She grabbed the pendant in the air, and clutched it close to her chest the minute she felt her fingers wrap around the comforting wood.

"It was my mother's."

"Do you know why I brought you here?"

She shook her head.

"Long ago, a demon came about, and threatened my kingdom. Katurah rose up from a terrible past and single-handedly saved this place from the demon's plight. But now my strength grows weaker, and I cannot battle as I used to," the panther walked back toward them, the teenage girl backing away slightly while she held her ground. "I need another warrior. I need you."

The panther's words hit her like a brick wall, and she suddenly took a step back.

"Me? No, I mean, I can't fight."

"I can see your past. You have strength, and you have watched your husband train. You can fight."

She stared at the beast as it stopped momentarily beside a rock. Quizzically, she watched as the beast pushed it aside with a single swipe of a massive paw, unveiling the ground below. Long hidden beneath the stone, neatly folded, was a mahogany tunic made of velvety fabric, dirt clinging to several bits of the cloth. And when the panther gathered it up in its jaw, just like it had done with her pendant, uncovered the blade of a sword.

"Why should I help you?" Malon said boldly, watching as the beast looked up at her.

"Because if you don't, you will never leave, and your friend will die."

"Is that a threat?"

A wicked grin curled across the panther's lips.

"Of course not. I merely speak the truth."

"I understand that McKenna is poisoned, but what would stop me from leaving? Last time I checked my legs still work."

"I can see that. But that demon has since created a powerful mist that prevents anyone from entering or exiting. I'm afraid you're trapped. Either you fight, or you die."

"Why do you want me? Why couldn't it be that boy I met earlier?"

The panther dropped the tunic at her feet, and after a glance more, turned.

"Because that boy has no fire. He has used it all up. But you," it turned again, looking at her like an experienced horseman would look over a potential purchase. "There is a flame burning in you. You're suppressing it, but every second it threatens to break free and consume you. You've been pushed over the edge, you've had no sleep, that shadow has awoken memories you'd rather forget, and you are worried for your children, and your companions. The tiniest thing could send you past the breaking point."

She couldn't argue with the beast this time. Everything it said was truth. She was afraid. She was tired. And she was experiencing flashbacks of something she had pushed to the farthest, darkest corners of her mind. It was something she had desperately tried to move past, put behind her, and yet it still haunted her. She couldn't deny that it was all affecting her.

She looked toward the teenage girl, who was still staring in awe at the panther, watching its every movement carefully, muscles tense and ready to spring at a moments' notice. She couldn't tell if it was out of fear, or respect.

Slowly, as her mind finally began to falter and give in to the beast's request, she stepped forward, toward where the sword lay in the dirt. The blade was thin, and made of some of the finest metal, she could tell, by the sheen of the sharpened edges in the full moons light. At one time she couldn't have made heads or tails of what sword was better than another, but as Link insisted on keeping a sword at all times, scarred from the events six years prior and now rather untrusting of the world outside, she had learned by osmosis what made a good sword.

This one appeared to be made of a mixture of iron, copper and even a bit of silver. The hilt was sturdy, made for a bigger grip than her own, and wrapped in layer after layer of thick, raw leather. She reached down, and took it into her right hand, her dominant hand, and tested its weight. It was the lightest sword she had ever held, lighter even than the pitchforks she used back at the ranch. The hilt was a tad larger than she would have preferred, but otherwise, it seemed to be almost custom made for her.

"Before you get too involved," the panther's voice interrupted her reverie of the sword, and how her reflection was perfectly mirrored on the blade. She turned and found it sitting at the very edge of the water, occasionally batting at the water with one paw, lazy and half-heartedly. "You need to cleanse yourself. This water will ease the aches in your muscles, and invigorate you."

Malon looked at the panther skeptically.

"Now you want me to bathe?"

"With what you need to do? Yes. Now get rid of those dirty clothes!"

She looked toward the teenage girl, and after a moment, flicked her wrist at her, shooing her off. The girl merely shrugged, and moved out of view, sitting down just outside the layer of bramble. It was definitely something she wasn't comfortable doing. Stripping bare in a swamp she didn't know, in front of a panther she didn't trust, with a shadow whose intentions has been made clear as day.

"The more you procrastinate, the more likely your friend is to die."

She harrumphed at the panther, and started with her boots, kicking them off with some tribulation. The well-tanned leather clung to the sticky sweat on her feet and calves as she kicked at her heels, trying to get them off without having to set her pendant down. She didn't want to loose it again. It took a few minutes, and the whole time, the panther was watching her with its moon-like eyes, staring at her, a look of utter boredom in the yellow orbs.

It licked its lips as she finally succeeded in removing her boots, and carefully pushed them aside with one foot, and as she looked at it, it only made her more nervous. Was it male? Or female? She couldn't tell, and wasn't about to try and take a peak.

"Are you just trying to fool me into getting naked in front of you?"

A sound that resembled that of a human's laughter rumbled out from the beast's voice box, as it grinned so wide that the corners of its eyes crinkled, licking its teeth as it stared at her. Did it ever blink? She wondered.

"Don't you know what I am?" it asked, voice suddenly containing no accent at all, neither that of a man or a woman. A flat, monotone ring that echoed through her mind in a strange way that made her shiver. "I'm not a normal panther, child. I am deity of this place, guardian of the swamp. I am genderless. I have no interest in you."

She didn't know if she trusted the beast's words, but she wanted to be over with whatever the panther's plan might be. So she reluctantly began unbuttoning the front of her dress. She did have to admit that it was completely soiled. The dress was stained in everyplace imaginable with dirt, muck and blood. She could hardly believe that it had once been blue.

Her fingers fumbled with the last button, still refusing to let go of the pendant, leaving her with very little wiggle room to work with. After the final button had been loosened, the shouldered the top half off, a faint color of red adorning her cheeks as she exposed her chest. The only thing she could be thankful for was that the temperature was agreeable enough.

She stepped quickly from the dress that she had let fall to the ground, and moved quickly, hoping to cover herself in the water as quickly as she could, hoping that the water would conceal her from the panther's unnerving stare.

But stepping into the water did not cover a thing. The water was too clear. Everything was still painfully visible. However, she didn't care about that anymore. She hadn't noticed immediately, it was after she had reluctantly sunken down so that the water was above her chest that she realized that the water was stinging. Stinging to every inch of skin. She hurriedly checked the hue of the water. It was still a normal color for water, other than the unusual clarity. It wasn't the sickly pink of the poisoned water they had encountered previously.

"What is this?!" She hissed, the stinging progressing to a burning sensation. There was a strange look to the panther. Had its fur changed hue? It didn't look black anymore. No, it had definitely changed, lightening to a more violet hue, rosettes of darker purple littering its pelt.

"Did I forget to mention that it might sting a little?" it said without a drop of pity. "You need to be cleansed. The world has tainted you, darkened your mind and weighed down your soul. That's the demon's weakness. He is so caught up in his dark thoughts and petty ways that he cannot truly ascend the steps of the immortality that he yearns for. He is strong, yes, but not immortal. You need to clear your mind, and see with eyes unclouded by hate. In order for this to happen, to need to come to peace with your past."

It came closer to her, as she clenched her fists, hissing as the pain grew stronger, but this time, it was not a pain on her skin's surface. This time it was entirely in her head. Like an acute migraine, making her groan through clamped-shut teeth.

"At peace with my past?" she asked, reaching up from where she had originally planted her hands in the soft bed of the pond and pressing her fingers against her temples. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that you have to realize that the past is in the past, and your past does not define you…"The panther's voice died out. Or at least that was what she thought, as her vision began to waver. The last thing she felt was a cold nose touching the back of her skull, underneath her hairline. In reality it was her, and the fact that she was slowly loosing consciousness...

* * *

_"__Father, I'll be fine!" She insisted, placing both hands on her hips and staring up at the rather plump man in front of her. Sometimes he was so irritating! She wasn't a little girl anymore! She could do things on her own! She was fourteen after all! Practically an adult!_

_He grumbled something unintelligible, probably a curse he didn't want her to hear, and then stepped out of the way, head dipped down._

_"__Fine. Just…be careful," he looked at her, putting a large hand on her shoulder. It easily wrapped around her slender, gently sliding down her arm to gather up one of her hands into his. "Please?"_

_"__Of course Daddy! I'm not stupid!"_

_He sighed in apprehension, and opened the iron gate for her, the gate that led to the wide, seemingly endless expanse of field beyond. The wind was sweet smelling, scented with cherry blossoms from a neighboring farm and the subtle smell of fresh growing grass. _

_"__I know you aren't, Mal." Were his parting words, as he turned away from the gate, and headed slowly, falteringly, toward the open stable doors. She watched him go, and after his tall, rounded figure disappeared beyond the darkness of the stable's interior, looked toward the horse whose reins were firmly gripped in her hand._

_"__Come on, boy, let's go!" She said enthusiastically, excitement and anticipation bubbling inside her as she took the first step through the gate. The first step she had ever taken outside the ranch's gates without her father or older sister._

_The horse, a dun gelding who watched her placidly, walking alongside her, heaved as the cart he was hitched to rumbled over a bumpy patch in the otherwise well-worn path that she was leading him along._

_The milk bottles rattled inside the cart as she walked, humming her favorite song as she made her way for Kakariko Village. Her large blue eyes were wide with wonder and within the sapphire irises, youthful energy sparkled brightly. It was her first trip on her own all on her own._

_It was invigorating! Making a delivery for the ranch all by herself. She had always dreamed of the day she would be able to do things on her own, it was like a dream come true! The horse, she didn't know his name, tossed his head as they crossed over the narrow bridge, making the width by mere inches' margins, and headed for the special path made for deliveries and those traveling with horses._

_She thought about the horse as they both started up the incline. It seemed not to even have a name. They had a tradition of writing each horse's name on its tack. He wasn't a spectacular horse, but he was strong, and amiable, and finding no name on any of the tack, it seemed like such a shame for him to go through life without one. _

_"__I'm gonna call you…Marco. Yeah, that works, what do you think?" She whispered to him, reaching up with some difficulty and draping the reins over his neck again, allowing him to walk freely beside her. She had never found a need to put reins on horses. She understood what the purpose was, but she never needed them. Her father or sister never believed her, but she could swear that sometimes she could hear the horses speak. Not in whinnies, but in actual words._

_The gelding looked over at her, and an understanding look seemed to light up in the horse's brown eyes. He bobbed his head, as if nodding, and she broke into a bubbly laugh as they reached the top of the path, entering Kakariko Village._

_"__Ok then, Marco it is!"_

_Although she had never made the trip on her own, she had accompanied her sister or father many times, and knew the village by heart, places and people alike. There were only a few people she had not made the acquaintance of._

_This delivery in particular was headed for the local inn._

_Stopping the horse to one side of the entrance, she made a quick check to make sure he would stay, and then pushed the door open. The innkeeper was a short, pudgy woman, with a kind face and slender black eyes that smiled from her cheeks._

_"__Oh, Malon!" the woman exclaimed upon seeing her, beckoning her over to the bar she was standing behind. "Are you here by yourself?"_

_She beamed up at the woman with a toothy grin, excitement evident in the sparkle of her eyes._

_"__Yep! I'm delivering the milk all by myself!" She smiled, giggling through her words as she bounced on the balls of her feet._

_"__Well, isn't that grown up of you! Just let me go get that lazy bum of a man I call husband and we'll unload."_

_And with that, the woman hurried out from behind the bar, and quickly mounted the stairs that led to the rooms they rented. It was a well-known fact that her husband had a tendency to sneak off and sleep in one of the un-rented rooms._

_While she waited, she turned from the bar, and looked around the common room. There were a few simple wooden tables scattered around the room, and at almost each and every one, there were people seated. Most of them, she knew. People from the village often came to the inn as a common gathering place. But one table had a small group she had never seen before. There were two men sitting there, downing large tankards of golden beer, laughing raucously between swigs at what the other had to say. One man had tightly groomed, chestnut colored hair and a softly sculpted face. _

_But the other had harsher features. _

_Although he had obviously consumed a fair share of alcohol, his eyes were still an intense and snapping green hue, flecks of silver in the irises. A few strands hanging in front of his eyes, his jet-black hair was wild and unkempt._

_Two boys were sitting there as well. One was taller than the other, with dark auburn hair that hung limply in front of his honey-brown eyes. He sat beside the black haired man, while the other sat a little ways away from all of them._

_His hair was blonde, almost golden in hue, and although it was a bit messy, it was well tamed compared to the other man. She watched him interestedly as she waited for the innkeeper and her husband. She didn't often get to see foreigners, although she guessed that the golden-haired boy was actually originally from Hyrule, given that his ears were delicately pointed at the tips. She stiffened when the taller of the boys made a few soft, jeering gestures, saying something that she couldn't hear, and the boy she had been watching turned in his chair._

_She'd been caught staring._

_His eyes were an even darker blue than her own, and he looked at her curiously from across the room. She didn't know what to do now. She'd been caught staring, but she didn't know if she had the courage to go and explain herself to him. She hadn't meant to stare!_

_To her great relief, the innkeeper came back seconds later, husband plodding down the stairs after, grumbling, and gave an opportunity to leave. She dared to take one last glance over her shoulder as she stepped through the door, and found that the boy was still watching her._

_She waited beside the horse as they unloaded the wagon, absentmindedly stroking the gelding's silkily furred neck. Occasionally, she'd get lost in thought, and in order to re-obtain her full attention, the gelding would reach around and gently nibble at her hair, pulling her back to reality. She took the innkeeper's money after the wagon was unloaded, only giving a nod, and turned to leave without another word._

_She couldn't get that boy's stare out of her head. There was such a strange sadness to it. But it also had rebelliousness to it. Wild and fierce like that of a feral beast. As she thought about him, she didn't notice as large, shadowy figure crept up alongside he wagon, outside of either her or the horses' vision._

_She screamed in fright as a dirty, masculine hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her away from the horse and behind the nearest building. Before she could scream again, another hand wrapped around her mouth. She looked up into the narrow eyes of another man she did not know. He didn't seem to belong to the group she had seen earlier. His face was rather undistinguishable, with features that didn't look that much different from anyone else's. His dark brown hair was greasy, and probably hadn't been washed in a year, and hung almost down to his shoulders._

_His upper lip curled back in a malicious grin, revealing his rotten yellow teeth and alcohol stained breath. His breath was practically dripping with alcohol, probably beer, by the smell of it, and the skin of his hand smelled almost of bad. His eyes were pale and glazed over, with a filmy substance over the irises that obscured most of, if not all, of the color that might have once been there. Her stomach tied itself in knots as he leered at her. She was young, but not dumb. She knew what he was thinking. Why had she wanted to go on her own? Her father would've scared the man off before this even happened, and her sister would have been able to go get help or if nothing else, give him a good hard kick to a sensitive place. She had been so immature, thinking she could handle things on her own._

_" '__e quiet 'ittle girl." He sneered, his words slurring with drunkenness. Ever muscle in her body tightened as he reached toward her and took a hold of her dress's collar. Just as he gave a slight tug, making her yelp against his hand, he stopped, and growled, letting go of the collar and pressing the hand to the back of his head. He turned like a rabid dog that had been poked, other hand still clamped against her mouth, keeping her pinned against the back of the building. _

_"__Can' ya see 'm busy 'ere kid? Scat!" He spat, a few droplets of saliva flying past his lips. She strained her eyes to see who he was talking to, and had to make a double check._

_It was the boy from the inn. In his hand, he held a handful of rocks gathered up from the ground, one in his left hand, ready to be thrown. When the man turned back to her, the boy did throw the rock, and it hit him square against the ear. He gave a roar of pain upon impact, and seeing her chance, she steeled herself, and clamped her teeth down on his hand, biting as hard as she could._

_This time he howled as her teeth sunk into his skin, and the minute he pulled his hand back, she bolted, racing toward the boy. Before the man could follow, the boy pelted him several more times in the face with the remaining rocks he had._

_But now the drunken man was even angrier. He recovered quickly, and after he did, he started toward them, slow at first, but gaining speed._

_She cowered behind the boy. On one hand, she could bolt, find Marco and run, but she didn't want him to hurt the boy, either. He had saved her, she couldn't just leave!_

_Just as the man loomed over, fist cocked back and ready to deliver a devastating blow directly to the boy's face, three larger figures slid between them. It took her a moment to realize that it was the other three from the inn._

_The black haired one quickly and deftly struck the drunken man with a sharp kick to the gut, sending him staggering back and soon after toppling to the ground. But he dragged himself up again, unsteadily back to his feet, glaring brazenly at the two men. They exchanged a glance amongst themselves before the other man, the one with the softer features and chestnut-colored hair stepped forward and with a quick flick of his wrist, pulled a sword from a scabbard as his hip and clobbered the drunk with the pommel, rendering him unconscious._

_"__That'll teach ya to mess with one of mine." He snorted with finality, clapping his hands together, brushing the dirt from his palms. As he turned, he put a hand on the boy's head and ruffled his hair as he started away. The other boy didn't even look at her as he followed, like an obedient puppy following its master._

_But the one that had saved her remained. He stared at the unconscious drunk for a moment, before turning to face her. He was a little taller than her, about a foot, if she had too guess, and probably a few years older too. _

_"__I-uh…" She stammered, not knowing what to say. But just when she found the words, another voice rang out, louder than her's._

_"__Hey! Kid! We gotta go!" The black-haired man called, raising a hand to the air, calling him over._

_"__Yeah Blondie! Say bye to your girlfriend and let's go!" The auburn-haired youth jeered, drawing the boy's attention. He looked back at her once more, giving her a subtle wink before he bolted, racing to catch up with his group…_

* * *

She screamed as she came back to consciousness, instinctively clutching both hands over her bare chest, splashing the panther as she fought to regain control, and to remember where she was. The panther hissed as the water hit it in the face, and it reeled back to escape her reach. She panted as her situation flooded back to her, mixing with the strange, memory-dream she had just experienced.

"What in the hell was that?!" She gasped, lungs still fighting fill with air. It felt almost like she had drowned.

"Its your darkest memory, child. You've pushed that behind you ever since it transpired. In order to fight that demon, you must be at peace with who you are. You must not have a weakness. He would've used that. Do you realize what I was trying to teach you?"

She shook her head.

"I wanted to teach you that glass hearts break easy. Yours has the capability to be made of steel, if given the chance…

* * *

**Kay, that was a long ass chapter. I'm sorry for that, but there really wasn't a lot of stopping choices. Can I just say something here?**

**If any of you are at all disappointed with this arc so far, I can kind of explain if anyone thinks its lacking. This isn't exactly my favorite arc of the story. I have all these great ideas for part three, part four &amp; part five. But this one is being a stubborn little ass about coming out decently. I promise that it gets, like, ten times better! Really! **

**And does anyone have any guess as to who the four "strangers" were? I'm pretty sure that one is obvious, but the other three are up to interpretation at this point.**


	20. Devil's Laughter

**I AM SOOOOOO SORRY ABOUT THE FREAKING LONG ASS WAIT! I've been more interested in art than writing, I went through several rewrites of this chapter, I wasn't very inspired for this chapter either. If you ever get tired of these long waits and you're worried I'm dead, just check DeviantART. I post something there on average of every other day give or take. I can't believe I took this long...**

* * *

Devil's Laughter

* * *

"McKenna…you've gotta stay strong…" Jack whispered, holding the young woman's head on his lap and occasionally running a finger across her heated cheek. "Please…"

He leaned forward, and pressed a tender, butterfly kiss to her forehead, ignoring the grunt that the teenage boy gave. He glanced up just in time to see the boy roll his eyes dramatically, slouching over to rest his chin on a clenched fist. He sighed through his teeth at the boy, and returned his attention to McKenna, tucking a few stray locks of her brown hair behind one of her pointed ears. Although he knew deep inside what it was, there was a new, fierce emotion bubbling up inside him, coming from deep inside his gut and making his blood feel like it was boiling in his veins. He felt like his veins were going to pop.

Why had he let her go to the river on her own? She had obviously been in a strange state of mind, she probably didn't notice the strange water until it was too late. He could have stopped her. He could have stopped this. He had failed at his duty as her husband. Their wedding had not been a grand affair, a few of their closest (and only) friends gathered at the summit of Death Mountain, but he had vowed to protect her from anything that could possibly hurt her.

Now she was fighting a battle within herself, a battle he couldn't fight for her, and it was all his fault.

But somehow, what he wanted to do most at that moment, with her fragile, suffering body laying beside him, was fight. Something had snapped in his mind. He wanted to attack something, unsheathe one of his knives and draw blood. Feel pain as whatever he had attacked him retaliated. Feel the surge of sick, primal pleasure as he made the mortal blow, taking the life of what he had attacked, the warmth of foreign blood on his skin.

Perhaps physical pain would lessen the psychological anguish he was in.

The teenage boy made another grunting sound, and like a wolf prowling for food, his green eyes snapped toward him, watching his body intensely for the slightest movement, muscles as tense as a bowstring pulled tight. His gaze obviously unsettled the boy, as he straightened himself a bit, meeting his eyes with his own, amber, animal-like orbs.

_Control yourself. You're not an animal._ He told himself, clenching his fists. He could feel the rough, poorly trimmed edges of his fingernails digging into his palms. Much tighter and it would've drawn blood. But he didn't care. He was more concerned with controlling himself. He didn't understand what was going on inside his own head. It was like a wire had been crossed in the wrong direction, and now he was struggling to think properly.

It was like he had become an animal.

"What's wrong with you?" The boy asked, not unclamping his jaw, instead speaking through his teeth, lips only moving ever so slightly as he formed the words.

_Control yourself. Breathe! You're Jack! You're McKenna's husband! You have a responsibility to protect her. She needs you. You can't protect her if you're too busy ripping that boy's throat out. _But he couldn't push the last thought out of his head. Drawing one of his knives and lunging at the cocky youth, ending his life with a single thrust of the steel blade and feeling the blood on his fingers.

_Stop that! You're not a killer. Killing is a last resort. He's only a teenager. Remember what you were like as a teenager. You weren't much different. _

He had to get his mind onto a different subject. If he kept thinking those vicious thoughts, he might act upon them, and not even realize it.

"There's nothing wrong with me," he answered finally, after quieting his mind. He was lying, and he knew it. There was something wrong. "I'm just curious. How'd you get those scars?"

Maybe if he could get the boy to talk, he could push the violent thoughts from his head. The boy, on the other hand, did not seem like the type to openly share much of anything.

"Its none of your business, old man." He responded sharply, grinning as Jack tensed. He took a deep breath to calm himself. _He's just goading you. Don't feed into him._

"I was just wondering, is all."

The boy looked at him again, his brown-ticked silver hair falling in front of his eyes. His thin lips were pressed tightly together, as if he was fighting back his own violent thoughts.

"They burned me. They framed me. They said that I was the one responsible for bringing the demon here. They tried to burn me at the stake. They were going to roast me like a damn pig. Maybe even eat me, I don't know. But they got what they deserved. That demon wiped them all out, killed them in the flames meant for me," he took a breath, sighing through his last few words. "In essence, I killed them, and these are reminders. I'm responsible for killing all but one of the Deku Tribe. Whether it was really my fault, I don't know. Some could say that it was, and maybe they're right. Maybe I did kill them, at least one of them on purpose. Maybe I did enjoy the Deku King's pain," his voice was getting louder, which set Jack on edge. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had just opened a floodgate. "And now I'm cursed! Cursed to live with these disgusting scars all over my body! Cursed to live the rest of my life knowing that I killed the people my only friend loved! Live with the fact that I know she'll never truly forgive me!"

He stood abruptly, slamming a fist against the nearest wall in his frustration. Pulling his hand back, Jack saw traces of red liquid on the boy's knuckles. But the boy did it again, and again, until his knuckles were bloody and raw.

"I'm a fool! I should've just let them kill me! Death is better than this damned purgatory I'm living!"

He couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for bringing up the scars. Perhaps that hadn't been the wisest option. But regardless, the boy wasn't faring well, mentally. Worse even than himself. The boy pounded his fist a few more times, before finally turning, and sliding down the hardened dirt wall to sit in a crouching position, scarred arms wrapping around his knees and forehead bent forward, concealing his face from view.

"I killed her friends. I killed her family, and now only she and I remain. She'll never trust me again. I betrayed her."

Jack could hear tears in his voice, the way his words quivered and his throat seemed to be too thick to fully form words, as if he was drowning in his own anguish.

"Boy," he started, speaking but refusing to look the boy in the eyes. Something told him not to, although he didn't know what. "What's done is done. You can't change the past. You can only learn from your mistakes and move on. Life is like gambling, sometimes you bet on the wrong horse, and you have to face the music. But life is also quick to throw you another chance at winning. You can choose to quit," he lifted his gaze from McKenna, and used up the last bit of restraint and courage to meet the boy's eyes. "Or you can choose to bet again. The choice is yours."

A perplexed expression appeared in the boy's eyes, a tear dripping from the bass of his cheek.

"What does that even mean? And why should I listen to you, old man? Maybe its not your place to talk."

A small bubble of anger resurfaced in the pit of Jack's stomach, but he quickly dowsed the ember, urging himself to stay calm. He carefully lifted McKenna's head from his lap and stood, looking toward the staircase, as if hoping that Malon would return. He didn't want her to get hurt either.

Still nervous for McKenna, his body stiffened again when a sound came from above ground. The boy's shoulders rose up, a growl escaping from his throat as he stood, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"You'd better pick her up, if you want to save her." He said simply, striding toward the base of the stairs and peering up toward the sliver of black velvet sky that could be seen. Not questioning him, he proceeded to gather the young woman's thin body into his arms, her head resting limply against his shoulder. Even in her fitful sleep, her hands both found their way to the fabric of his shirt, gripping him as if for dear life.

Another sound, this time a full-on roar, came from above, followed by pounding footsteps.

"Get ready."

Now knowing that they had been found out, the two males stood perfectly still, fighting to keep as quiet as was humanly possible, banking on the useless thought that maybe if it couldn't hear them, it was loose interest and leave. Both of them knew that it was pointless, but it was instinct, and instincts that they couldn't ignore.

The footsteps had died down, and now the only thing that met his straining ears was a deafening silence. A silence that made him feel sick. Silence was worse than the beast's bravado, if the beast was howling, he could tell where it was, and anticipate its next move.

He held McKenna closer, using his body to form something of a shield to protect her from the inevitable, initial attack.

They were going to die. At this point he couldn't deny it. The anger and instinct to fight had died out, and had quickly been smothered entirely by a new feeling of hopelessness. He felt useless, weak and sickeningly stupid. Deep in the pit of his stomach, he blamed himself.

What had possessed him to come on this trip? Most standing on the sidelines would have said it was out of good nature, that he wanted to help Malon as she traveled to Termina. To make sure she got there safely, and perhaps help her find Link. But he knew the real reason, and he felt ridiculously stupid and immature for it. After so many years of his youth spent abroad, traveling on, never tethered down. It had gotten to him, it had become engrained into his DNA, a need for freedom and open spaces.

Never once had he ever thought about it that way. But now he realized that he had gotten them into this mess. His foolish need for "one more adventure" was going to get him, an innocent boy and his beloved killed. And all for the reckless thrill of the open road. What an ass he'd made of himself!

He leapt aside when five razor-sharp claws suddenly burst through the dirt ceiling above, mere inches from his face. He gave a muffled grunt of effort and reaction as he did, and after shifting his grip on McKenna so that she was nestled against his chest in a tighter position that allowed him to hold her with one arm, he grabbed the boy by the shoulder, hauling his dumbstruck figuring toward the staircase. Thundering up the dirt stairs, his feet occasionally breaking through the tightly packed earth, he looked down at McKenna's sleeping face. He couldn't give up that easily. It wasn't fair to her.

He raced against the beast's raging claws, up the narrowly tunneled staircase, receiving several painful cuts when the demon's claws came too close, only hoping that he could reach the top in time. The feeling of hopelessness was drowning in a pit of defiance. He wasn't going down that easy! Maybe he could outrun the demon, just long enough to find the horses again. He could send Cerus off with McKenna, and hold the beast off long enough for her to escape.

Jack practically leapt the last few steps, racing into the marshy ruins of what must have been the Deku Palace. He could hear the demon give a triumphant roar as his figure became plainly visible, illuminated by the light of the moon.

Within five steps the demon overtook him, sweeping around him with a previously unseen amount of grace, looming over him, back to the moon, the soft white light failing to reach his face, leaving his face and mask blackened, making him even more of a ghostly entity. From beyond the slender holes in the mask, two glowing red eyes could be seen, like tiny flames burning in a pitch-black landscape.

Feet sliding in the muddy, water-choked ground, he could barely stop himself in time, digging his heels into the ground in a frantic attempt to bring himself away from the demon's arm-length. In a last ditch effort, he turned, facing the boy, whose face was plastered in a perpetual look of fear and confusion.

"Take her!" He demanded, practically flinging McKenna into the younger male's arms. He had no time to be prideful. The boy staggered slightly beneath the new, unfamiliar weight, scrambling to get his arms underneath the unconscious woman that has just been thrust into his care.

"But I-"

"Go!" he commanded at the top of his lungs, whipping back around when he felt a claw cut clean through the fabric of his vest and shirt and dig deep into the small of his back, aimed directly for his spinal cord. "Just go! Get out of here and keep her safe!"

He flicked his wrist, drawing the knife that was concealed within his gauntlet and with a precise swing, brought the steel blade burying deep into the beast's exposed collarbone. He pressed harder as he felt the blade cut mercilessly through skin, muscle and tendon alike, stopping only when the tip hit the thick bone.

The beast staggered back as he pressed even more of his weight onto the knife, smiling to himself as a faint crackling met his ears. Finally the beast pulled away entirely, throwing his head back and screeching his pain to the uncaring moon as the blade spilt through the bone, sending splinters shattering through his muscles. The knife still buried hilt-deep into the beast, Jack released, backing away when the beast dropped to one knee, head tipped forward, panting.

His stomach dropped out from beneath him as the demon suddenly made a strange sound, a low, rumbling from his throat. It gradually rose in pitch, until he broke into full-born laughter, screeching into the night, insanity and wrath dripping from the beast's voice. It was a laugh like the devil's, fresh from hell.

In one fluid motion, the demon brought one massive hand to where the hilt still protruded from his chest and ripped the steel blade from his flesh like one would pluck a splinter from their finger, crushing it between his fingers and tossing the mangled result aside like a broken toy, still laughing as he did so.

The demon rose to his full height once more, blocking out the moon as Jack watched, mentally counting how many knives he had left. Three. Just three. He glanced over his shoulder, and gave an unintelligible, disgruntled shout. The boy had barely moved a foot, still standing there, with McKenna awkwardly slumped in his arms.

"Get out off here!" He screamed, his throat becoming hoarse from yelling and from lack of water. In his moment of inattention, the demon took his chance, and it was Jack's turn to cry out in pain as the demon brought a hand crashing into the side of his neck. He gasped from the blunt force, claws scraping at his skin, ripping through the collar of his shirt as he was sent rolling aside, landing chest first into the marsh.

As he grabbed at the ground, fingers grasping at anything they could find to help him stand again, the boy watched on the sidelines, the loosing man's "mate" as he preferred to call it in his grasp. The demon seemed to have lost interest in the man, and now his lifeless stare was focused directly on the two of them.

He, as discretely as possible, started taking small steps backward, the demon still chortling to himself, thick, inhuman blood the color of tar draining from deep inside the cavity of his chest, hindering not even in the slightest. The demon's strides were still smooth and powerful, muscles tensing and stretching like a well-oiled machine.

As he backed away slowly, the girl shifted in her slumber, suddenly, and with a great deal of strength considering her weakened state, pushing away from his chest with a violent shout. Her eyes snapped open, vibrant and quite alive, as she leapt from his arms, landing steadily despite the sodden ground beneath her.

Hearing a feminine voice, Jack's mind steeled, finding something to focus on, and he snapped to attention, shoving his hands against the ground and whipping into an upright position, holding himself as steady as he could

McKenna was standing before the demon, shoulders set brazenly, weight borne on one hip, the other tilted in a way that could have been perceived as seductive, chin dipped down toward her chest. Ignoring the strange stance she had taken, assuming it was merely her getting her feet back on the ground, raced toward the demon again, his feet sliding in the mucky ground in his frantic pace, the boiling anger from previously returning with a vengeance.

In a single swift motion, he drew another knife from the opposite gauntlet, and covering the last ground between him and the beast, drove the knife deep into the back of the demon's neck, shoving it straight for the spine and spinal cord.

The demon howled even louder than the first time he had drawn blood, a screech that made his ears feel like they were about to bleed. Scrambling, the demon threw Jack from his back seconds before the knife could do permanent damage, thick, tarry blood quickly pooling in the cavity that the knife had made, pouring down the demon's back and mixing with the marshy groundwater below.

He landed beside McKenna's feet, shoulder impacting against the ground with a sickening crack despite the softer, wetter ground. Searing pain washed through his shoulder, arm and chest in waves as he dragged himself upright, cringing both from the pain in his shoulder and the earsplitting screeches the demon was letting loose, head thrown all the way back, huge hands grabbing in vain for the knife that was still lodged firmly in the middle of his back.

Looking once toward McKenna, her face almost looked crestfallen as the demon gave one final screech before turning racing off into the dark, forest that bordered them.

"Yeah that's right you big lily-livered bastard! Run like the bloody chicken you are! Two knives and you're out?! Ha! What a dope!" The boy shouted, running a few feet in the same direction, as if chasing the demon off, reminding Jack of a young cockerel, feinting bravado as an older bird would retreat and recover.

However, he was too fatigued, in too much pain to notice as a small, feminine hand gingerly pulled the third and final knife he owned from the calve of his worn leather boot. Only when the knife came slicing at him from his chest, missing by inches and digging into his right cheek, did he notice. He gasped as the knife cut all the way from jaw to eyebrow, almost clean through his eyelid in the swift, expert thrust of the blade.

Caught off-guard, he fell back, hitting the ground just as the boy turned, curious as to why he had yelped, only to watch as his wife leaned down to his level, one knee pressed painfully into the tender hollow of his ribcage.

He gasped as she pressed harder, the knife's point pressed against his injured shoulder, poised to be driven into his flesh with a single thrust.

She smiled down at him, her eyes glimmering a cruel crimson, the crimson of a shadow's eyes…

* * *

She wasn't stupid. She knew when someone was trying to dupe her. And that was the stupidest decision anyone could make. She swung her slender, but well-muscled legs over the side of the bed, striding confidently despite the cold wood floors. The cold hadn't bothered her in years.

Stepping with a loud thud through the door, she smirked condescendingly when her soulless silver eyes caught sight of his shape. He was standing beside the door that led to the street, his pants put on loosely, his belt not completely fastened around his waist. She stopped ten feet from him, her gentle steps not alerting him to her presence. She watched as he grabbed his shirt, his trench coat, his satchel. She had been right.

He was bailing out.

"Where the hell is my money you bloody bastard?" She asked in a sharp, jeering tone. He jumped, startled. He took a moment before turning, a suave grin plastered on his face.

"I'm sorry? I don't know what you're talking about love."

She allowed her lips to curl back in a sinister grin, stepping toward him.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about you cheating bastard. We made a deal."

He smirked at her, pulling his trench coat, slinging his satchel over his shoulder.

"I never signed a contract."

Her eyes narrowed as he turned, heading for the door with a soft chuckle. Wrong move.

His face ripped in pain, then stilled, dead standing as the point of a dagger burst through the center of his chest, stilling the vital beating of his heart. She pressed the knife as far as it would go, insuring his death, his blood on her hands, hilt pressing against the skin of his back.

As soon as she withdrew the dagger from his dead flesh, his body fell to the floor, from which she promptly snatched his satchel, taking a quick look inside and smirking at the amount of money found inside, along with gate passes, maps and food. A thief's dream.

She was about to step out the door, ready to leave, when she made a final glance at his lifeless body. His trench coat intrigued her. Not for the warmth it would provide, something she wouldn't need, but merely for the style. She drug the fabric from his limp, unmoving body, and slipped it onto her own, smaller shoulders, nodding at how it felt. She could feel warm blood against her back, but paid no mind as she stepped into the cold world beyond.

It would dry…

* * *

**Ok. There's that chapter. As you can probably see I'm trying to innuendo at the next arc, which is either my favorite, or my second favorite. I hate this one. I'm hoping to end this arch next chapter.**


	21. Uncaring Moon

**Hey y'all. I know that its been a LOOOOOONG time. I miss you all so much! And before any of you ask, no, I have not yet gotten a new computer yet. But my dad is letting me use his computer sometimes, so I was finally able to piece this last chapter of part 2 together. It's probably at least a month more of spotty-ness on here, since my family is going through a really tight patch, monetarily speaking. But I hope you enjoy this last chapter. I'm personally not proud of it, but I hated this whole part anyway. I want assure all of you that part 3, part 4 and part 5 are SOOOOO much better than this.**

* * *

_Chapter 21._

_Uncaring Moon_

* * *

He stood before the great stone doors that led to her chambers. He had never known how frightening it could be. Now he understood why the others had given him such solemn looks when his name had been called. In comparison to the others, he was young. Twenty-three years to the day.

A rather sad birthday if you asked him. It hadn't even been his choice to join the ranks. It had been one of cruel fate.

But regardless, here he stood, staring with vacated eyes at the gray stone doors, pupils darting over the crude drawings scrawled into the surface. In the dim light of a torch several feet further down the hall, he could understand only a fraction of the drawings, but even that sliver was enough to make him queasy. Perhaps that was what they were meant to do. Play with a person's mind before they even crossed the threshold. Not that their Mistress needed any help with the playing of minds.

She truly was a master of games of the mind.

Some said that a person was doomed before they even set foot near her. That there was something in her aura that ran rings around a person's sanity, and clouded a person's judgment until it was too late, only coming-to when the mistress's blade was stabbed into their chests. Only allowed a few split seconds of consciousness before they were swept into the darkness that laid in wait beyond the mortal coil.

His hand brushed for the first time against the cold metal doorknocker, his heart coursing faster and faster within the cradle of his ribcage. How had it come to this? Although she was incredibly powerful, having been, in a sense, revived by the untrustworthy shadow woman, her strength still wasn't that of what it had used to be, and using her dark magic was invariably draining. It had come to be a norm that after extensive use of her magic, she would sleep for days on end, and waking her from one of these slumbers was known to be lethal.

His fingers wrapped, unwillingly, but nonetheless firmly around the thin iron, and slowly, he knocked. The hollow echo rang in his ears. Somehow, despite his gentle use of the doorknocker, the sound came out as loud as any human's ears could handle. As if it was fire, he released the metal as soon as he could, and took a few shaking steps backward, soon butting up against the opposite wall.

He allowed his hands to roam over the cold stones, fingers gripping at the crevasses, uncaring of the sticky, unknown substances that inlaid themselves underneath his fingernails. He swore he could hear her coming already. The blood in his veins ran cold when the door creaked on old, rusted hinges, and a first glimpse of the pitch-blackness beyond grew larger as one half of the double doors swung open.

Their mistress, his mistress, was shorter than most of them. And yet a giant now stood before him. Looming in the doorway, shoulders slumped, and even in the darkness, her red pupils and unsettling yellow animal irises glowing against the black.

"What the hell do you want at this hour?" She snapped, eyes flashing even brighter.

"M-mistress," he stuttered, mentally cursing himself as he did so. " Master Odolwa has sent word from the south. He has said that he is severally injured. He requests that he be allowed to fall back and heal his wounds here."

Her icy glare was set on him now, flickering with the anger of a disgruntled mother whose children had disobeyed despite her warnings.

"Send his messenger back!" she shouted, her shrill, inhuman voice piercing his ears like a thousand knives. "Either he fights or he dies! No warrior of mine will be allowed such lenience! And how dare you call upon me at this hour to tell me news such as this?"

He froze when she stepped beyond the threshold, bare feet making naught but a sound on the rough stones hewn into the floor.

"I-I was just doing as Master Vash ordered. H-he was the one who received the message."

Her look was that of icy hatred, and his body shook as she drew ever nearer, until her face was only inches from his. He swallowed roughly, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck when her hand traced the muscles in his neck, resting her pointed, claw-like nails directly over his jugular.

"I should behead both of you for this," she mused, pressing down against his throat. "But alas! I must reserve my strength for future battles," and with that, she swept aside with a single, graceful turn, dragging her sharp nails across his skin as she did. He concealed a grunt of pain as shallow scratches were left where her fingers once had rested. "Leave me. My body grows weary, wake me again, and I will kill you all."

He watched, back pressed as hard as he could possibly muster against the wall, fingers gripping the rough stones. She strode into her chambers without another word, the door slamming behind her, and with it, making him heave a sigh of relief.

Now all that was left was to relay what Mistress Majora had said to the messenger. Within the cavity of his chest, a violent, uncompromising mixture of both pride that he had (mostly, that is) kept his cool, and the sense that something very bad was brewing. Something that neither side, good nor bad was fighting for.

At least he had survived. For now…

* * *

Was this all real? Some gnawing feeling in the back of her mind refused to believe that this was true_. I mean, come on!_ She thought ruefully, smacking aside several leafy sections of undergrowth to provide herself with enough space to pass. _Was she really supposed to believe all this? First Link went missing, then her sister died. Not to suspicious, right? But almost as soon as she entered their neighbor kingdom, she's kidnapped by shadows? A race of people she had thought only resided in Hyrule. Now she was stuck in a damned swamp, with no water to drink, an ethereal panther (that could talk, by the way) and a crazy, murderous demon on the loose that she was supposed to kill._

_No problem…right?_

It was all a little too unrealistic, if you asked her. At one point in her life, she might have believed it. But as she had aged, her mind had grown more skeptical of the occult.

"If this is all a game, this isn't funny!" She shouted to the sky, to the uncaring moon, for any ears that might hear her.

But why would it be a game? She just didn't know any more. Some would tell her to just go with the flow, roll with the punches.

She had never been very good at that.

She was the kind of person who didn't want the world telling her what to do. She wanted to be in control of her life.

With another swipe, she suddenly broke through the underbrush, nearly falling forward as her balance was taken from her. She stumbled several feet to catch herself, boot-clad feet sliding out from underneath her when she hit a patch of what from her angle looked like mud. She gave a frustrated yelp when her center of gravity was thrown in the opposite direction, falling back, arms swinging, landing in the pool of sloppy mud.

"Ugh." She moaned, allowing herself to fall completely, head hitting the ground with a small splash in the groundwater. She allowed her eyes to wander. She was at what looked like the summit of a mountain, at least from memory of Death Mountain. Low walls of earth blocked in the clearing, and several feet away, a massive lake of the poisoned water ebbed at the walls. Above her, the sky had clouded over, blocking out the full moon that had been looming low overhead, and somewhere in the distance, thunder cracked, a faint glimmer of light from a lightning strike illuminating the tops of the trees. She hadn't even noticed the storm brewing. It looked like it was near the ranch. I hope Cyrus is taking good care of Kara and Rinku.

_I hope that they aren't too worried._ Kara was so bubbly and scatterbrained –as most children her age were- that she probably hadn't even noticed. But Rinku, even with being three years junior to his sister, was already more in touch with his surroundings. He noticed things that sometimes even his parents did not, like the subtle motions of a horse's ears, or the grasshoppers beneath their feet. He had definitely noticed her absence.

Lost in yearning thoughts of her children, Malon did not notice that that supposed "mud" that she had fallen into was warm. Almost as warm –if not warmer- then her own body. It was only after her thoughts began to dwindle that this came to mind. She lifted one hand from her side, holding it up to the faint light of the night for inspection.

What she saw made her skin crawl.

She wasn't lying in mud. She was lying in blood. Thick, tarry black blood.

"Gross!" She screamed, jumping clumsily to her feet as fast as she could without tipping forward instead. Looking down, she could see that the blood had stained the tunic she had received from the panther from collar to skirt hem. Reaching back and pulling her braid forward, she found that even her hair had been dyed a strange shade of purple where the blood had touched it.

_I was considering a new hairstyle, but this was NOT what I had in mind!_

She screamed again when a horrifying, blood-curdling screech shook her from a mere few feet away. Standing in front of her was the demon from before, a fresh wound on his –she assumed it was a "he"- collarbone, black blood much like the kind she had fallen in draining from the massive gash. She could only guess that Jack had been the one who had inflicted it. She could only hope that he had survived.

"You again."

The demon stood statue-still as her fingers wrapped round the hilt of the sword that hung at her hip. Another flash of lighting struck, much closer this time, and illuminated the demon's masked face, revealing a fresh crack in the wood that concealed his identity.

"You could leave. I don't have to kill you. I don't want to kill you."

The demon answered, thus condemning them both to battle, with a vicious, rage-fueled swipe of his claws, the very tips digging into the flesh of her right cheek, directly beneath her eye, sending her reeling backward and unable to defend herself from yet another blow. This one attacking her side, ripping through the fabric of her tunic like a heated knife through butter and slicing into the skin below.

She knew the terrors of battle. Link had brought her very close to the gruesome reality. But other when the traitorous Seth had sliced her ankle, she had never been the one to take the blows.

Instinct kicked in more suddenly then she had ever expected it would, a sudden, primal voice screaming in her ears, one telling her to fight. Her flight instinct had taken a back seat this time. Now she wanted to fight.

The sword she had been given was drawn in mere seconds, and in only a few more, it's sharpened blade had been jabbed full-force at the demon. To her dismay, the demon was still smart enough to dodge, the edge of her blade only nipping at his hardened skin. Nonetheless, the demon gave an enraged growl, and whipped around at her, lunging this time with both sets of claws, aimed straight at her chest. She had to think fast.

In a last ditch effort, she dropped to the ground, using her forward momentum to slide a few feet in the blood before digging her free hand into the soaked ground, searching for something to grab hold of, something to steady herself with. Finally finding one of the roots of the trees that grew nearby, she swung her weight toward the demon again, his back still toward her, slow to realize what she had done. With the sword poised to stab directly into the beast's heart –if he had one- she flung herself at him…

* * *

Her breath came in wavering, unsteady gasps that made her lungs feel like they were going to bleed. Sweat trickled down the middle of her back, and across her arms, stinging the numerous cuts that littered her body, from head to toe. Her muscles quivered, threatening to give out with ever move she made. It must have been hours since the battle begun. It felt like days. The demon had sustained a fair amount of cuts from her sword, but his composure, at least what he had had before hand, remained.

He was winning.

She felt like she was going to collapse. She honestly didn't know how much longer she could hold out for.

The demon took another, surprisingly well-aimed swing at her, and this time ripped into her shoulder. Her balance was thrown off again by sheer force of the blow, her feet sliding in the pool of blood that had amassed throughout their battle.

She fell back again, this time fighting for all her worth to stay at least semi-upright, jutting the sword in front of herself to act as a guard against the demon, rightfully fearing that he might attack whilst she was down. He leapt forward again, like a hunger-crazed predator going in for the kill. Her eyes widened, focused entirely on the demon as he charged, not noticing the streak of black darting behind the demon.

The panther, body bunching into a tight ball and then stretching as far as its muscles could go as it ran, charged toward the bloody, raven-haired man that had approached from the opposite side of what it knew was called Woodfall. He stopped, one knife in hand, dead in his tracks, his face contorting into one of fear when the large beast drew near.

"This isn't your fight, human." The panther spat in its ethereal voice, snapping its jaw at him, fangs clicking against one another. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, the sick, warm-yet-chilling feeling of his own blood slowly trickling from the wound McKenna –or the shadow woman's- blade had made, he looked beyond, unto where the demon was attacking Malon, where she was seated, fighting to protect herself.

"Yes it is. She's dying out there!" He made a move to step past the beast, only to be blocked yet again, this time receiving a fierce snarl of warning. The panther's ears had flattened against its thickly muscled neck, lips pealed back, baring the yellow fangs nestled in the fleshy pink gums.

"Don't interfere!"

"I'll do whatever I damn-well please! You aren't my deity!"

Before the panther could react, he arced his arm back, and flung the knife at the demon. The blade whistled through the air, too fast for the panther to stop, and with a sick sound, it buried deep into the exact middle of the demon's back, just above the wound that he had made just over half-an-hour earlier. But this time the knife went deeper. An agonized screech so loud that the thunder seemed to bow ripped from the demon's voice box. He threw his head back and wailed, shoulders bunched up toward his neck in violent spasms, massive hands clawing at his sides as he fell with a mighty thud.

Malon looked on in wide-eyed horror, the beast screaming in his death throws. It was only after the demon's body stilled that she noticed Jack standing there, and the puzzle pieces were locked together in mind. However, she hadn't even found her footing when the panther charged at her, a fierce anger in its yellow eyes.

"You were the one supposed to kill it!" It snarled. At she stared at it, it almost seemed to have grown. The last she had seen it, it's head had come up to her neck when she was standing.

Now they were eye-to-eye.

Its fur seemed to have changed hues as well. What had once been a pleasant shade of ebony had darkened to the blackest of black. An evil shade.

"Your friend ruined my plan!" It screeched. She stumbled back as it leapt over the demon's lifeless body. Blood suddenly began to pool in the cavity of its throat. Its eyes were draining color, until only the ghostly whites were left. Blood the same color of the demon's spilled over the panther's lips, splashing onto the ground below.

"Plan?" She asked in a high-pitched squeak, dodging as the beast swatted at her with a gargantuan paw.

"I almost had you! You would've been dead if he hadn't thrown that damned knife! You believed me! I had you all fooled!"

It leapt at her, paws slamming against her shoulders, pinning her to the ground. Over the panther's heavy breathing, she could faintly hear Jack scream her name.

"I touched your mind! I saw what you fear! I was so close! I could have been a god! I could have-!"

The beast never finished its sentence. A primitive, but indefinitely lethal arrow lodged into its skull, breaking through the thick bone and burying into its brain. It wasn't even able to utter a final screech of death. It's functions halted abruptly, body convulsing as it fell aside, into the already formed pool of blood.

"What the hell?!" She heard Jack say, but all she could do was lay still, shivers of fright and exhaustion wracking her body.

From beyond the veil of heavy foliage, the teenage boy stepped out, a rudimentary bow clutched in his hand, another arrow notched, ready to be shot at a moments' notice. He trained the arrow on the panther's body as he came over to them, never letting his eyes dart from the dead beast. This arrow was trained on the beast's heart.

"Good thing I kept this." He muttered under his breath, staring at the beast.

Shortly after Malon stood, the underbrush rustled again, and this time, the girl emerged, eyes widening at the gory sight before her, both the demon, and the deity dead in a pool of blood.

"What happened? Why is the deity dead?!"

Malon watched as the girl broke into a run, racing to the panther's side.

"Don't touch it!" The boy called Monek yelled, dropping the bow and instead grabbing her by the shoulders and swinging her away from the panther.

"Monek! Release me now!" she snapped at him, squirming in his grip. He only tightened his arms around her shoulders.

"It's no deity."

She stopped squirming, but instead, turned a incredulous, disbelieving stare on him.

"…What are you talking about?"

"I never should have let you go after that bastard of a panther. Don't you remember? The panther deity died hundreds of years ago, the same time that the hero did. ."

A first, she didn't seem to believe him, but as his words sunk in, a look of astonishment pulled at her features. She remained silent for a moment, her astonishment melting into that of sheepishness. Both adults gently averted their gazes as she hid her face against his chest, causing the boy's cheeks to turn a rather unflattering shade of pink. After a few moments, he looked toward the panther-imposter's lifeless body, his gaze being followed by everyone who stood there.

"…Then," Malon started slowly. "What was that thing?"

"I don't know."

As they left, not a single one of them noticed the unknown man lurking in the bushes, watching them as they left, and creeping toward the bodies once they were out of earshot…

* * *

When the doors to her throne room opened, every single head turned. No one had been expecting the gangly young man. Some merely looked on with curiosity, but others bore a look of fiery distrust as he carried himself across the granite floors. His dirt-brown hair messy and in disarray, his face bony and hollow, malnourishment surely being the cause. His tattered clothes hung loosely from his slender frame, his jerky, staggering stride making some of the crowd nervous.

She remained seated, bringing one leg up over the other to cross them in a purposely-demure action. The crowd parted for the stranger, allowing him access to the throne, a thousand pairs of unfriendly eyes watching his every move.

From either side of her throne, a tall, well-muscled youth crept from the shadows, walking in a crouch, heads held low, arms spread wide, blades jutting from the knuckles of their fingerless gloves. One was a woman, the other a man, but both shared their facial features. Both had hair as black as a raven's feathers, greasy and ungroomed, eyes the same shade as their mistress, but a more violent, animalistic hue. Their faces were angular, coming to harsh points at the tips of their chins, with strong, rounded noses and pronounced cheekbones.

Twins.

They stopped a few feet after passing the throne, the woman staying crouched, the man straightening to his full height, looming several feet taller than the man who approached.

He stopped only when the man made a move to strike him back.

"Lady Majora of The Cursed East," he started, his voice ringing clear in the utter silence of the throne room. "I bring word from the south."

When he paused, she allowed her chin to dip just a bit toward her chest, a sign of recognition.

"Master Odolwa has fallen, your grip on the south is no more."

A collective gasp spread through the room like a virus, only ineffective on the three before him. They didn't even flinch.

"However," he reached for the satchel slung over his shoulder. The woman on the throne allowed one elegantly arched eyebrow to rise with interest. "I found this buried within his flesh."

He produced a small, green gemstone, round and smooth, and shimmering as a faint ray of sunlight hit it. Within seconds of holding it out to the light of day, the man had snatched it from his hand, the blades grazing his palm. He could only watch as the man turned, and placed it within his mistress's hand.

She looked at it, turning it over several times, testing its weight between her fingertips, a look of satisfaction on her face.

"Itachi," she said, drawing her man's attention. An evil smirk was pulling at the corners of her mouth, a smile that made his stomach churn. "Why don't you show our guest some hospitality?"

He didn't even have time to react. All he saw was a streak of motion, of fluttering fabric and drawn knives.

The entire crowd watched without emotion as the young messenger was killed on the spot, and listened as their mistress laughed coldly in the face of the unknown young man, as he was brutally murdered where he stood, smirked as he fell, limp to ground.

"Ina, send a messenger to the north. Goht must prepare…"

* * *

**So there you have it. The crappy end to a crappy arc. I hope I didn't disappoint you all too much. There will be a little more explanation in part 5 of how this wraps up.**

* * *

Character songs:

Malon

Ship To Wreck by Florence &amp; The Machine

Majora

First by Cold War Kids.

* * *

**Shout out to everyone who's sticking with even through this rough patch! But especially Link'sLily and Courage Of Awesome! If you need stories that update at a faster rate, read their stories! They're both incredible writers!**

**Oh, and if I made it too obscure, the panther was actually a split consciousness of Odolwa. Think of it like whatever those things were that Voldemort used in Harry Potter, back up plans, plus a way to trick Malon and the others into fighting for his own side. Yeah, half-baked just like the rest of this damn part...**


	22. Part Three: Bargaining

**Hi everyone! Sorry about long waits! Not a lot to say here otherwise, just enjoy! This is one of my favorite chapters, the next one being even higher on the list.**

* * *

Part Three: Bargaining.

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Chapter 22.

Delusions Of Grandeur.

* * *

The power coursing through her veins ached. It made her knees weak and mind foggy. She wanted to scream. She wanted to claw at her own body, to grab at her veins and still the pain at its source. She could feel her heart beating within her chest, harder and harder until felt as though it was going to break from her ribcage.

It was going to burst.

"Nuka," she gasped in desperation, eyes as wide as they could be, clutching at her chest through the thin fabric that had been wrapped tightly around her breast and ribs. "What's happening to me?!"

She fell to her knees, not even caring as her bare legs met with the thickened, rotted blood that covered the dirt floor. The creature was nowhere in sight.

"It's going to burst!"

No answer.

She reiterated over and over again, each cry louder, more agonized than the last. Had it all been a trick? Had the creature been masquerading as a god, only to now reveal himself as a demon, luring her to her death by the unstable and gullible mind of a teenage girl whose heart had already been shattered?

"No, its not." The creature finally answered her desperate cries. Her head whipped up from her prostrate stance, searching the dank underbelly of the forbidden well for the creature, and yet was met with only the pile of rotting corpses.

"It's going to stop."

"What?!"

"Hearts are severally overrated. They only get in the way, you know."

She gasped again when her heart stuttered, bringing another spasm of pain.

"But it will kill me!"

The creature chuckled, a deep vibration that sounded like it was right beside her. But a single glance told her otherwise.

"Not with my magic within your veins."

She panted as her heart began to slow, yet the pain remained, only growing stronger with each second that ticked by.

"Where are you?"

There was an eerie silence that followed, one that would have made her nervous if not for the agony that she was in.

"I'm in your head."

Her stomach seemed to drop out from beneath her, she gave another rasping gasp in weak protest, knowing it was already too late to change her fate. She could feel him inside her head now, it was plainly obviously, searching through her memories, dreams and nightmares as if her mind was a book for him to flip through, not a private collection of thoughts and feelings.

"You need me, and I need you. I cannot take back my proper place in the lofty peaks of immortality without a healthy body, and you cannot ascend the steps of your birthright as queen without the powers I posses."

The pain she had been in from her heart pounding had but scratched the surface in comparison to when it stopped. Every function in her body stilled. Her blood ceased to flow, her lungs tightened, unable to draw fresh air from outside nor push the stale breath out. A chocking sob ripped from her throat as she fell forward onto her hands, fingers clawing at the rotted blood that covered the ground.

It was several minutes later that the pain finally stopped.

In the thick, eerie atmosphere of the dried well, her head slowly, like the smooth rearing of a cobra's hood, lifted, and surveyed the darkness with eyes that shone a bright, inhuman yellow. She rose effortlessly, hauntingly, a feeling of newfound power buzzing inside her body. She could feel the creature now, a dark aura surrounding her like a thick mist.

When she looked down, she found that her skin had paled to that of a beautiful milky cream, a tone sought by all the noble girls of her kingdom, and yet never obtained, until now. Her figure had changed as well, now resembling that of a fully figured woman, not that of a scrawny, flat chest-ed teenager. The creature's power had purveyed for her a body that was truly beautiful, transforming her into a trophy for which all the men would compete. A prize never to be won.

Her heart was already taken. And now was the time to see to it that his heart belonged to her…

* * *

With her expertise, entering the castle was a breeze. She had done so countless times before. This would mark the last. After today, she would claim his heart as her own, officially. This would be the last time she had to creep through the sewers. They would welcome her, open the gates and bow as she strode gracefully into the arms of her love.

The secret passage she used came out in a small, unused hallway directly behind the throne room. Several yards from where she emerged, the hallway met with a larger, lit corridor, from which a commotion was being made. After creeping slowly from the passageway, she watched for a moment with interest, as server boys and tableside waiters bustled past carrying trays of food and stacks of fine china, bottles of fine wine and cutlery. Meanwhile maids, messengers and livery workers all scattered, going about their business as if there was not enough time in the day to complete their tasks.

After a moment, her interest lagged, and her own personal mission came back to the forefront. To the left of her, another small passage stood, concealed from the public by mere ways of a wooden crate just tall enough to obscure it from the corridor's view.

It was only about half her height, forcing her to either double over or crawl on her hands on knees. She opted for the latter. Her legs were already covered in old, rotted blood, a little dirt could do no more damage than had already been dealt.

Luckily, it was a short passage. She stopped just before exiting, using her delicately pointed ears, listening to what was happening just beyond the velvet curtain that hid the passage from passers-by in the throne room. Despite the din in the corridors, the throne room was silent. Its too silent, he must be alone. She thought. If the queen or one of his servers had been there, he would surely be making idle chatter with them.

Now was the perfect time.

An exuberant smile on her lips, she darted from behind the curtain, making a quick turn so that she faced the two thrones. But her yellow eyes did not fall upon the chiseled features and dark hair of her love. Sitting in a new, third throne carved out of the same material, was a woman she had never laid eyes before. She had an angular face, with a strong nose and chin. Her dark brown hair had been combed and pulled back into a tight bun atop her head, a decorative pin thrust into the waves of hair.

On her face, a shocked expression had momentarily broken, soon thereafter replaced by one of composed disapproval.

"Who are you?" The woman asked incredulously. Her voice was rough and tart despite the tiara atop her head, a cloyingly thick accent clinging to her words. The accent of a northerner.

"I could ask you the same." She retorted, lifting her chin defiantly, unsuccessfully attempting to set a stubborn stance, her bare feet sliding on the slick marble floors.

"I'll ask again, then I'm calling the guards," the woman on the throne snarled, her otherwise lifeless silver eyes glinting dangerously. "Who _are_ you? And what right do you have to barge into the throne room unannounced?"

"My name is Keres, and I'm Igos' fiancé." She spat the last word venomously, throwing it in a matter-of-fact way that would surely stop this annoying woman in her tracks.

Oh how wrong she had been.

Mocking, ladylike laughter erupted from the silence, catching her off-guard. She shook her head once to get her baring then stared with wide, unbelieving eyes at the woman.

"Oh child-!" she managed to say between her fits of laughter. "I am afraid you're having delusions of grandeur. You cannot be his fiancé," she hissed, laughter dying on her tongue, her expression turning to one of dark pleasure. "For I am his wife."

"You're young, foolish mind has gotten you into a heap of trouble now, child. Say goodbye to the outside world, the dungeon is calling your name, Keres."

The words that met her ears were ones that she could not except. He loved her! Mere weeks ago he had asked her to be his, to take his hand in marriage. Now this woman had the gall to claim that she was his wife?! She could feel a newfound rage burning in the pit of his chest, electrifying her whole body with fierce energy.

"What will you do, child?" the creature hissed softly in her mind. Her lips curled back to show her pearly whites in a dark smile. Despite the closed room, a light breeze wafted past her, lifting her hair up like waves on the ocean. "Kill her? Or perhaps a fate worse than death?"

"What would that be?" She asked without unclamping her jaw. The woman gave her a look of uncertainty, but she didn't care. She hated her. She wanted to do the worst thing she could possibly do to her. She wanted blood. Her stare was so intent that she did not even notice as one of the suits of armor that lined either wall began to clatter, and seconds later the sword it held was ripped from its grip, swinging toward her without a hand to wield it. She hadn't even noticed as its hilt slipped into her palm, as her fingers wrapped around it.

She only noticed when she felt the sickly thud of the blade being buried within the woman's chest, when an agonized screech tore from the woman's throat. But the woman didn't die. She had been sentenced to a fate far worse than the death she would have wanted.

Something inside her willed her to lean close, toward the woman's pained, terrified face.

"Who's the fool now?" She hissed, not even looking back when a screech and a string of curses echoed from the throne room doors. A voice she knew well, a voice that was like music to her ears.

She still did not pull her gaze from the woman's wide eyes, fighting with the woman's will.

"Hello, Igos…"

* * *

**There you have it, another chapter. A bit short for my taste, but if stretched this chapter any further i'd be letting go of info i'm not ready to release. Hopefully the next chapter comes faster. **

**Now I need some help from the readers: This story needs a new title. I just don't think "Stay With Me" is punchy enough. I need something with more impact. Anyone who has an idea, please tell me in a review or PM! Something not quite so dull...**

**Thanks to everyone who's keeping up with this story!**

**Keres (Possessed) - Angel Of Small Death &amp; The Codeine Scene by Hozier.**

**Keres and her relationship with the Woman on The Throne - Gold by SirSly.**


	23. Bitter Wind

**YAY I UPDATED IN A REASONABLE SPAN OF TIME I THINK MY GROOVE IS FINALLY BACK! Now, nobody touch it or else you'll throw off the emperor's groove! NO TOUCHY!**

**But anyway, not a lot to say here either, except that the first part of this chapter may be a bit boring. Link needs a rest gosh darn it! Also, I don' have time for a lot of proofreading right now so sorry in advance for any mistakes!**

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Chapter 23

Bitter Wind.

* * *

Never before in his life had experienced such cold. Hyrule had cold winters, but never to this degree. It had come from nowhere, blanketing the land around him in several inches of freezing powder. His shuddering breath clouded in front of his face like a thick mist clinging to his warmth. He hugged himself, hands quickly going numb without anything to cover them. His clothes were not at all well suited for cold weather. A thin cotton shirt and travel-worn trousers were not exactly winter-wear.

Link had never liked winter.

"Gods," he cursed, putting his head down and trudging onward, not even sure of where he was going. "Why is it so damn cold?!"

It wasn't even winter! It was the middle of freaking summer!

The snow was coming down so hard that the only thing he could see was a thick, ominous curtain of white, of dazzling snowflakes swirling in front of his eyes, blocking his vision and blurring his path. Each step became harder and harder as the snow grew thicker. He let loose a panicked yelp when the ground suddenly gave out beneath him, and he was sent tumbling down a hill he had been unable to see. Snow was thrown in every direction as he rolled, careening blindly down the hillside, shouting a sting of loud, colorful curses.

In a sea of white, he had no idea where he was when he stopped. It seemed as though during his heart-pounding roll, the storm had thickened, bringing another, harsher wave of intense cold, making his eyes water, the strong wind whipping against his face. But as he fought to regain his footing, the bitter scent of cold was not the only that met his nose. He could smell smoke.

Someone had a fire.

And he wasn't about to pass up on the opportunity.

He followed his nose, his sight unable to help him, and trudged onward. Faintly in the distance, he could see a glow from beyond the curtain of billowing white. He quickened his pace, and audibly sighed when he left the storm behind him, and entered a small cave, feeling the warmth of a fire on his frozen skin. However, he was not allowed much time to relish in his respite. Several dozen harsh, accusing glares fell upon him from further into the cavern. Men, women, children, all staring at him from under bundles of blankets, shawls and overcoats, the men rising from their seats, holding their weapons with white knuckles and frozen fingers.

Several smaller children, younger than Kara or Rinku, broke into frightened sobs upon his arrival, clinging to their mothers' chests burrowing deeper into the folds of warm coverings. The mothers' shushed them quickly and effectively with soothing words and soft touches. It was something that never ceased to amaze him, a mothers ability to sooth her child. Yes, of course he had since learned how to calm a frightened, hurting, or otherwise cranky child, but his skill paled in comparison to Malon's.

She scarcely had to utter a word.

A single woman near the back of the carvern drew his particular attention. She was somewhere in her mid-thirties, with a two year old hugging tightly to her chest. Her stare was that of defiance, and she cradled the child as, with some struggle, she rose from the ground, her cocoon of blankets falling around her ankles, revealing the filled-out abdomen of late term pregnancy.

"Sir," she spoke loudly, so that her voice carried over the din of murmurs. One of the men, he assumed her husband, turned back to her as she continued. "Who are you?"

"What does his name matter? He's obviously one of _hers._ Just look at his neck." The man responded. Down turned her head in a dangerous gesture that quickly silenced him, asserting her dominance over him. He recalled his guess, that wasn't a gesture used between partners. That was a gesture between leader and subordinate.

"Don't judge a book by its cover," she returned her gaze to him, a curious look in her pastel-blue eyes. "Let him speak."

Silence followed, as all eyes were on him, and he wasn't sure whether to engage and take his chances or to off and run. But in the back of his mind, he knew he couldn't survive in the blizzard. He had to try and make his case with those who had been forced from the mountain village.

"My name is Link. Please, I'm not one to beg, but if you would just allow me to warm myself before I leave, or at least spare one of your cloaks-"

"Shut your mouth, outsider!" the same man from before snapped. His eyes were full of hate. "I'm not about to help one of that witch's lackeys! I hope you freeze out there!"

"Silas!" the woman snapped, startling the child in her arms. But she didn't back down. "You have no right to choose who comes and goes! Have you forgotten who is in charge here? Shall I remind you?"

His body immediately responded, even if his mind was unwilling, as if muscle memory had overridden. He backed away, shoulders slumping forward, head tipping downward. She smiled in satisfaction before giving him a beckoning gesture. The man slunk off dejectedly toward the other end of the group, past him, giving him a fierce glare of disapproval as he passed, asserting his distrust and making it plainly clear that he did not like him in the least.

"Come, you're welcome to warm yourself beside the fire." She said calmly, heading back to where she had been seated previously and struggling to sit down without the use of her hands. He himself had been about to sit when he noticed.

"I can take him, if that would help."

She looked at him for a moment, seemingly mulling over his offer, weighing her options, looking him over, judging his character. The child squeaked in discomfort and fear as he was pried from the warmth of his mother's chest and handed to a man he'd never seen before. A cry shattered the nervous silence as Link took the child into his hands, bringing him to rest gently against him. He smiled at the boy, a genuine smile, one that he hoped would calm his worries.

"Hi there," he whispered, never letting the discomfort of his frozen bones seep into his tone. His smile only broadened when he received a smaller one in return from the boy. "That's right, nothing to worry about."

While he waited for the woman to sit, a struggle for her in her current condition, he gently rocked his weight on the balls of his feet, a simply swaying motion that he had used countless times on Kara and Rinku. The boy was quiet when he handed him back to his mother, a surprised look on her face. It was then that he promptly sat for himself beside the fire, his tired muscles relaxing, making him sigh as tension slowly left his body, as the fire eased his aches. The cold was murder on his joints, especially his left shoulder, which had never really healed from the wound six years previously, inflicted by his own shadow. Getting old sucked.

"So Link, do you have children? I've never seen Liam take to someone so quickly!"

He nodded, holding his hands out toward the yellow and orange flames.

"Two. Both a little older than him."

Her attention returned to her son, feeling him cuddle as far as he could against her. Silence followed, no one seeing a need for words. This allowed him to further survey the group that had allowed him in. When he looked closer, it came to his attention that there were actually two distinct groups. One that the mother obviously belonged to, all wearing similar clothes, similar in likeness, in hair color, in character, obviously a people that had lived remotely, all but untouched by the outside world. But the other was a more diverse, with many different individuals, only a few showing any likeness to another. Some with dark hair, some with light, short hair, long hair, round faces, angular chins, strong noses, elegant brows. Piercings, tattoos, scars, all setting them apart from each other.

One of them, a very young woman, no more than eighteen, was crying silently in the corner, heartbroken tears and voiceless sobs wracking her body. A man was sitting beside her, holding her, rubbing her arm, whispering.

"Don't worry, they'll bring her back. He never fails. You can trust him. He'll find Sakura." He thought he heard the man say to her, although it was hard to hear from his distance.

"Where are you from, Link? I've never heard an accent like yours." The mother asked him, noticing his concerned face, drawing his attention away.

He was about to answer when another voice spoke before him. A voice addled and shaking with age.

"He's Hylian," the huddle of blankets beside her moved, and a wrinkled old hand appeared from beyond the blankets. Afterward the blankets fell from around the person's head, revealing a very old woman. Her hair was short, and as white as the snow that was still falling outside, her face riddled with wrinkles. Her almond shaped eyes were barely open, crust filling the corners of them, the hue faded and milky. She was blind. "I haven't heard a Hylian in years. Who's leading nowadays, hmm? Are the Nohansen's still in power? Ah, Hyrule, such a beautiful place it was, full of beautiful people to boot!"

"Grandma," the mother said with a sigh, giving him an apologetic look as she placed a hand on the old lady's arm. "He's very tired, and I'm sure he's not interested in one of your stories."

"Actually," he interrupted. "You can go on ma'am, if you'd like. I wouldn't mind."

The mother looked at him with surprise in her eyes.

"I really wouldn't mind, it might be nice to hear about Hyrule from someone else's point of view."

Even without the use of her eyes, he couldn't help but smile when the old woman smirked, and playfully elbowed her granddaughter. It made him miss his own family.

"I _like_ him! He has a right-smart head on his shoulders!"

"You should listen too, Anne. I met your grandfather in Hyrule. Now he was a strapping lad in his youth, oh, he could charm a snake with that smile of his! Son of an innkeeper, he was, near the lake. I suspect that inn had more than one business, if you know what I mean, some pretty shady lookin' ladies were always hangin' around that place. I was a right fish out of water, fresh from the village with my dad, oh, the looks I got!"

As the old woman continued, He leaned back, finally feeling comfortable for the first time in a long time. He listened with interest as the snow continued to fall outside the cave…

* * *

"Goddesses be damned!" He cursed, looking around the completely white landscape with tired, anxious silver-flecked green eyes. The horse beneath him shuddered with cold, the wind ruthlessly whipping at the animal's thin summer hide, lashing at the beast's eyes, rendering it blind with cold and pain. Even he could see nothing, not even the tracks made by his steed seconds before it had planted its hooves, willing to move not another step.

"Where could she have gone?"

"Dad!" Another voice called from behind. He turned in the saddle, shielding his eyes with a hand as another large silhouette came into view from beyond the curtain of snow, a black shape moving toward him.

"Any sign?" He asked. The silhouette came close enough to be viewed. Another man, younger than himself astride the back of a black mare, the snow sticking to the horse's sweated-out coat, giving it the look of old age. The man astride had pulled his trench coat tight about his body, a few strands of his dark auburn hair escaping the attached hood, flying in every direction as the wind caught hold of them. His honey-brown eyes held a look of defeat.

"Not a trace. Would we even find one? The snow has to be at least three feat deep, dad. I think it's time to face facts. She can't be alive."

"I refuse to believe that, and I don't want to hear another word of it, Remus! We keep looking!" He said determinedly, turning away from his son, wracking his brain. She had to be out there, and to hell with him if he was going to give up.

"Kan," a rough, tart female voice said to him. A woman only a little younger than Remus was seated backwards on the same horse as he. Her face was that of which no one would mess with if given the chance, her eyes a hue of melted iron that practically glowed in the dim atmosphere of snow. Although her coat was long, and well-sewn of thick leather, the sleeves had been completely torn off, leaving her arms bare, and underneath, easily seen, as the coat was unbuttoned, only a light, whitish-blue slip and thin trousers were worn. And yet the cold seemed not to affect her in the least. She stared off into the storm, never letting her eyes wander from a particular, unseen place. "I can look for her. The cold doesn't bother me, and we'd cover more ground."

He looked back at her. She was a strange one. Showing up in the middle of the night at their campsite, hanging around and eventually catching Remus' interest. He couldn't quite place what made him uneasy about the girl. There was something about her. Her eyes were just so lifeless, her skin so dull and pale, her hair limp and barely ever grew. It was like she was already dead. She made the horses nervous.

"Fine, go." He honestly didn't' care about her much. She wasn't under his care, she could do as she pleased. If she wanted to risk her life, all the power to her.

She leapt from the horse with single easy bound, landing on her feet in the snow. He watched as she gave a single wink to his son, and then dashed off with a stride that was inhumanly swift given the thick snow, bounding like a beast through the drifts.

She could smell him. She could smell his beast. More importantly, she could smell Majora on his clothes. He was very near, and she was going to find him. Like a creature raised in snow, she darted with ease, dodging holes that no one else would have seen, leaping rocks and logs hidden just beneath the blanket of white powder. She was getting close, and that excited her. As soon as she laid eyes upon him her breath quickened. Her vision became utterly focused on his shape.

The thought of battle made the blood pump through her veins.

When she came close enough that she knew he had seen her, however, she stopped. She wanted him to make the first move. The thrill of it would have been lost if he had not been expecting her.

"You there," she heard him call. He was looking directly at her. She laughed. "Are you Gea?"

She slunk forward a few more feet, feet silent, eyes narrowing to slits. She could barely contain her excitement. She hoped that he would falter, slip up. She wanted him to bleed. She wanted to feel it, feel him struggle. She wanted to taste his blood, smell it on her skin, watch as it seeped into the snow, dying the scene crimson.

"Depends on who's asking," she responded, staying her distance. She could see that underneath his cloak he was strong, well muscled. She wanted him to run. "You're Majora's new pet, yeah?"

She watched him nod.

"What? Did she kick you out? Well, I don't need someone else getting in the way, so you might as well turn around and head back to your precious mistress. I work _alone._" She knew why he was here, but she wanted to taunt him, provoke him, make him thrash. If he would just talk a bit more, she could find out what made him tick. What made him squirm. It wouldn't take her long.

"Her ladyship sent me. You're taking too long, she's grown impatient."

"And who died and made you king? I'll get the job done, and I'll get it done on _my_ time, thank you."

"Do you talk to her Highness like that?"

"I _don't_ talk to her, that's the _point._ I do my thing, she does hers. My job is to kill, not to be sociable."

"Yes, but you haven't killed him yet, and the shadow woman is out for his blood as well, I suggest you hurry up."

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Now get out of my territory, little brat."

She could see him scowl even through the curtain of snow.

"Say that to my face!" He snapped, only regretting his words when her shape disappeared from view. He had heard many stories of Gea, The Devil of The North. Never once had she run from a battle, and never once had she lost one. To go against her was considered certain death. Even Majora had warned him to be on his guard, and supposedly the woman was on the same side them. He now knew better. She was on no ones' side but her own. She did as someone told her only if it pleased her.

He gave a cry of fear when she suddenly appeared in front of his horse, making the beast scream and rear up, front hooves flailing only inches from her face. But she didn't move. Instead she moved closer, grabbing the mangy beast's reins and yanking him down with an inhuman burst of strength. The horse gave another squeal as its balance was taken, and it came plummeting down into the snow, throwing his rider several feet away into another drift of snow.

The horse was quicker to his feet than his rider. By the time he had realized what had happened, it was too late for him. She had already grabbed him by the collar of his undershirt, had already hefted him up, till only his toes touched the snow. She then threw him back to jar his mind, confuse him. Pinned him to the snow, making him sink down.

His scream was muffled by her hand over his mouth, the knife she had had hidden under her wrist stabbed through his upper arm, near the shoulder joint.

"You can take that back to Majora. I _will_ get the job done. I don't need help. From anyone." She said, standing, wiping her hands together, feeling his warm blood smear against her skin. Turning, she strode away from the scene, happily leaving him with a firm reminder of whose territory it was. It was then that she felt him. A cruel smile crept onto her lips. He was here. He was coming. The Deity had arrived…

* * *

**You probably all noticed the title change, as I discussed in the last chapter. Courage Of Awesome suggested a wonderful title, and so that shall be the winner! Thanks to her for her lovely suggestion, and here's her very smart reasoning behind it:**

_"There are so many people in this story and a lot of them meet with each other, affecting the other in different ways. They make them think and choose things that could possibly change their fates. Everyone affects everyone."_

_**Thanks again to Courage Of Awesome for the title!** _


	24. The Mountain Demon

**Hey everyone. Here's another chapter for you! The beginning of this chapter might be a bit boring, but I hope you all like it anyway. Next chapter gets into the real meat of the story! So excited! **

**And please, read the bottom A/N. There's a special opportunity for all readers!**

* * *

_Chapter 24_

_The Mountain Demon._

* * *

"…You seem like the kind of person who would enjoy a bit of local history," the old woman said to him over the fire, shaking hands taking the blankets that she had let fall to her lap and pulling them about her shoulders. There was an audible sigh from most of those who sat round the fire, obviously bored with the elder's stories. He didn't find it all that boring, he had always found different histories intriguing, although prior to now he had seldom the time to investigate.

"Before my mother was born, there was a war that a spread faster than wildfire across this kingdom. It was called the Demon War. And for good reasons too! The offense was led by a woman from far to the east. It's said that she was so beautiful that she left the men stunned and the women sick with envy. But she was not the namesake. It was her followers who dubbed it the 'Demon War'. Six warriors, three men and three women. They fought like demons, heartless beasts, never sparing a life, racing across the entire kingdom, leaving a trail of blood in their wake."

"Grandma," the mother sighed, louder than the others had been. "This story? Its not even real."

The old woman's face scrunched up, a look of positive denial.

"You youngsters and your newfangled science! Just 'cause somethin' seems impossible doesn't necessarily means it is. You have to learn to believe, girl! Next you'll be tellin' me that Termia doesn't exist neither!"

"Ma, that's because she doesn't."

A look of utter betrayal was on the old woman's face now, her winkles accentuating the expression.

"Anne! I can't believe you!" she crossed her arms beneath her wraps, making a tut-tutting noise of disapproval. "Your family's been faithful followers of her grace for many, many years, to say that is downright blasphemous! To think! Termia is real, I've seen 'er with my own two eyes!"

"Was this before or after you went blind?" An unseen member of the group muttered in retort.

"Anyway," the old woman said, smirking when her granddaughter conceded. "It was during that war that in this very region a rather phenomenal thing happened. It snowed during the summer. Just like right now. A nasty blizzard that covered the entire mountain in freezing ice. They say that the snowstorm was caused by one of the commander's top warriors. The mountain demon," she seemed to relish the story she was telling, smiling ear-to-ear as she spoke animatedly. "They say that he was impossible to kill. After all, how do you kill something that's already dead?"

"But he wasn't the only danger in these parts at the time. He was also in charge of a separate entity, a gigantic metal bull that could destroy and entire village in a single charge."

Metal bull? He gulped and tried not to look conspicuous. That woman had been building a metal bull.

"A metal bull just like the one that forced us into this cavern, just like the one that came upon us last night. He's re-awoken his master."

"That's enough." The mother said curtly, interrupting the old woman's story.

"What?" The old woman asked innocently.

"The story isn't real! That mechanical bull you're talking about wasn't the one from the legend, it couldn't have been, because the legend isn't real!"

"It is real! You're great-great-grandfather severed the bull's heart and hid it in Labrynna! He was the one who imprisoned the mountain demon in the Ice Catacombs! How can you not believe me?!"

"Because it's impossible! I don't want you to fill my child's head with nonsense like that."

The old woman crossed her arms, turning her head from her granddaughter.

"Old woman Selma," a voice said behind him. He turned his head, and found that the man from before, the one who had denied him entry had stood. The man was glaring at him. "This metal bull, if it truly is the one from the legend, than it had to be rebuilt, no?"

She nodded.

"Why, of course! What do you think that woman was doing up at the smithy? She had obviously been possessed by the demon's evil heart."

"And would you say that her 'unpaid' assistants would have helped build it?" He was obviously trying to push an angle. He didn't like it.

"Undoubtedly. I dare say she hadn't to lift a finger!"

Link looked at the man through the corners of his eyes, he had a cruel smirk on his face.

"You slimy piece of work!" he shouted, startling the whole of the group. "You helped that witch build the very thing that destroyed our village!"

He had lunged before anyone could stop him. He grabbed Link by the collar, dragging him to his feet, his lips parted in a beastly sneer, eyes burning with rage. His free hand was balled into a tight fist, his knuckles going white, cocked back and ready to deliver a blow directly to his nose.

"Silas," the mother said calmly, knowing not to engage him. "Let him go."

The man turned his stare on her instead, his hand still gripping his collar firmly. He didn't fight back, it would only make it worse.

"No! He helped build that monstrosity!"

The man's fiery gaze was turned back on him, and now he felt the first fingers of fear. This man's stare was murderous, crazed and thirsty for blood. He was utterly defenseless. He had not a weapon on him. Of course, he could throw a decent punch, but that wouldn't stand against the knife he glimpsed tucked into the man's breast pocket.

"Silas, this isn't the time or place for violence. Please calm down."

"That monster _murdered_ my _family!_" he practically screamed, droplets of saliva landing on his face. He tried his best not to flinch. One wrong move and that knife would be in his windpipe. "His life is the _least_ I deserve!"

His eyes widened when the man reached for the knife, his lips parted slightly as his breath hitched. He turned his hands and gently displayed his opened palms toward the aggressor, hoping the gesture might calm him.

"Killing him will get you nowhere," the mother insisted, staring into his eyes even when he refused to make contact. "You're hurting, I understand where you're coming from, but please, think of what Helena and Wes would want. Would they want you to kill him?" she had risen again, her son clinging sleepily to her chest, unaware of the struggle. The look in her pastel eyes was one of gentle pleading. "He was new, I doubt he had much of a hand in the making of the creature. Let him go."

He looked toward her, his nose twitching. For several terse moments, they stared at each other, his grip still tight on Link's collar.

He gasped when the man let go, shoving a hand against his chest, forcing him backward as he turned, stalking away like a defeated predator, his pray ripped from his own jaw.

With a tired sigh, he had been about to sit again when the mother spoke.

"Sir," she said, an unsettling tone of apology in her voice. "Although I personally do not mind your presence, I am afraid that many of our people were killed by that monstrosity, the beast you had a hand in building. I'm aware that it was not your intention to hurt anyone, but it cannot be looked past. I must suggest you take your leave whilst you may still with grace and dignity."

He dipped his chin in understanding, fully aware of the harsh glares from the townsfolk he was receiving, and turned to leave, resigned to the cold he was about to face. He didn't feel comfortable anymore, anyway. He had just started off when another voice spoke.

The man who had been seated beside the sobbing girl had stood. He stepped forward, shrugging the thick leather cloak from his shoulders and gripping it in his hand, holding it forward in offering.

"Take my cloak." He said, giving an affirmative nod when Link's hand first made contact with he leather.

"I thank you," Link said to him, giving a small bow of his head.

"Sir, please, I just have one thing to ask," the man's voice lowered. "If you're going out there, please, just keep an eye out for a little girl. She went missing just before the snowstorm. She's only two years old, brown hair in two braids, gray eyes. Her name's Sakura. Please, if you see her, please bring her back. She means the world to Kasumi, if something happened to her, I don't think Kasumi could carry on."

There was genuine fear in this man's eyes. He nodded as he took the cloak, pulling it over his own shoulders and tying it in place. The inside was lined with soft, warm sheep hide, much like the cloak that Malon had sewed for him several years earlier as a Mid-Winter gift. The only difference was that the one he owned had a small Triforce insignia sewn on the left shoulder.

"I'll be sure to." He answered the man, taking his leave. The cold first touched his skin as he neared the mouth of the cave, he could already feel the first fingers of harsh wind on his face. And that was where he stopped. He was gathering his thoughts and bearings. Which direction was he supposed to head? He wanted to get back to Clock Town. If he could get there, he could find his way back to Hyrule.

"Boy," he heard the old woman call. He didn't turn, not finding a need to. She couldn't see him, anyway. "Before you leave, I was wondering. My Brother left for Hyrule many years ago to seek his fortune. The king of that time granted him a large estate in the eastern forest. He married, and had two sons. He used to write often, but I haven't received a letter for about thirty years. The last I heard, his younger son had just become a father himself. Would you happen to know if he's still alive? His name was Edward."

The name sounded familiar to him, although he couldn't place it.

"Now, what were his sons names? Emil and…And…Oh, what was his name? Adam? Alex? Oh…Never mind me, you go. Don't mind an old woman's mutterings. You probably wouldn't have known him, anyway."

And so he left.

The old woman settled into her blankets, feeling her granddaughter scuttle a bit closer. She felt the fingers of tiredness tugging at her senses, the fire's warmth lulling her to sleep.

"Aldric…His other son's name was Aldric…"

* * *

The storm seemed to have gotten worse. He held the cloak tightly around his shoulders and trudged onward. He told himself that it would be worth it. That he didn't belong in that group, that that fire wasn't meant for him. But he couldn't deny the fact that he'd rather have stayed. He didn't even know where he was going. Was he heading south like he wanted? Or was he heading even further into the storm?

Perhaps this hadn't been the best plan. He certainly hadn't thought it out very well.

He just wanted it to end. His sense of adventure had dulled dramatically. Of course he had thrived on it in his youth. What vital young man didn't? The rush of adrenaline, the sense of danger, the thrill of success. He couldn't quite pin down the exact time that he had lost a great deal of it. He knew it had to do with many different factors. Age, experience, his children, ect.

He still enjoyed the occasional adventure, but this was just pushing him a bit too far. He liked to do things on his terms, not someone else's.

Goddesses, I could do without the wind. He thought begrudgingly, holding the cloak even tighter. It was only a few moments later that his eyes came to rest upon a dark shape in the distance. He stopped, and narrowed his eyes to try and see the figure clearer. The snow was too thick.

The figure moved, revealing the human-like shape.

"Hello?" He called cautiously, hand instinctively reaching for his hip, grabbing the nonexistent hilt of a sword.

No answer.

"Can you hear me?" He took a few quiet steps closer. The figure seemed to be short, but well built, with some sort of garment long enough to catch the gusts. Had he just seen a nod? It was hard to tell. The person was nothing but a faceless black shape from where he was.

"Who are you? Do you know where we are?" he stepped closer, faint colors becoming clear. He still couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, he wasn't about to ask. But whoever they were, they were very well muscled. "My name's Link."

He thought that maybe a bit of personal information might coerce the person to respond. Still nothing.

He stepped even close, now only a few feet between them. He could see the person clearly now, and he did not like what he saw. In both hands the person held bloodied knives, the thick crimson liquid dripping onto the snow and dying the scene red. Covering the person's face was a sinister mask, the mouth and bridge of their nose still exposed, but their eyes and brows covered by a thick plate of metal, leaving only lifeless slits from which the person's eyes glinted.

Two large, pointed horns stretched skyward from the metal plate, resembling the horns of a bull, the person's shaggy, limp black hair hiding where the protrusions connected.

A slight smirk tugged at the person's lips, making him nervous.

"Run." The person said in a demonic voice that made a shiver travel down his spine. The person's evil smile grew. It was then that he realized who this was.

This was the Mountain Demon.

"I said," he said, leaning toward him, brandishing both knives. The horns jabbed toward his face, forcing him to stagger back to dodge them. "Run…"

* * *

**There you have it. Now for an announcement:**

**I'm having another contest! This one is going to be a fanart contest! Here are the guidelines. Its pretty simple, just draw one of (or more, if that's what you'd like to do!) the characters in this story. It can be anyone, the good guys, the bad guys, the neutral ones like Mistress Fala. I don't care, anything is fine. **

**The winner will get to design a character that will appear frequently in the story. Now, this character will not be completely plot-integral, but they will appear quite often. (Think the cabbage man from ATLA)**

**Judging will not be based on drawing ability, but on effort, and idea. If you want to draw stick figures, that's fine. Once you've finished your piece, please post it to a site I can find and contact me, telling me how to find it.**

**Entries must be received by Sept. 30th.**

**Thanks everyone!**


	25. Unwanted Reunion

**Hi everyone. Long time, no see, huh? I have no excuses. I'm not even going to try. Just enjoy. Not my absolute favorite chapter, but the next one is pretty close. **

**Oh, and Courage Of Awesome won the Fanart contest! Her character is awesome! He's going to get a cameo part here, and star in his own story later, when I've firmed up the plot a little bit more.**

**Shout out to Courage! She's, well, AWESOME! Please read her stories, she hasn't been getting the attention she deserves!**

**And a great big shout out to Link'sLily! My oldest and greatest friend! Oh my god, she's such a great person! And please, read her story According To Legend. Its seriously one of the best stories I've read in quite a while. It NEEDS more followers! Please, i'm being honest. READ IT! Sorry that I've been so quiet lately. I just hope I haven't damaged our friendship!**

* * *

Chapter 25

* * *

Unwanted Reunion

* * *

"She's been gone a long time, I hope she hasn't gotten herself lost." He heard Remus mutter behind him. Kan shivered as a fierce gust of wind hit him, ripping at his cloak, tugging it away from his frame and exposing his body to the cold. His horse, a gray mare with darkened points on her muzzle and joints, whickered unsurely, hooves sliding in the snow. He honestly couldn't care less. Gea wasn't his concern. Sakura was.

Where had the child gone? Shortly before the storm had hit, the young girl had skittered off, chasing after a particular butterfly that had caught her interest. At the time, none of them had been worried. It had been quite sunny out, and after a long journey, they had all thought that the girl might benefit from fresh air and open space to stretch her legs. How wrong they had been. Where would she have gone? Did she have any idea of what to do in a snowstorm? Or had she floundered, unable to find her way.

He didn't want to think about the outcome. He had to remain hopeful.

But the morbid thoughts were clawing at his consciousness, empowered by his own suffering. The cold was slowly sapping his strength, both physical and mental. Upon every inch of exposed skin, the harsh wind had left invisible burns that stung. He could barely see, the frozen wind had rendered him almost blind. As his mare took a few shuddering steps forward, his mind was barraged with gruesome images. He could see her now. The tiny girl, her gray eyes wide with fear as the blizzard cracked into life.

He could see her as the snow quickly piled up around her. Why had they overlooked her? Why hadn't they noticed? Why, why why?! She was floundering, flailing in the snow, her thin frock providing no warmth as the frozen water swiftly boxed her in. He could hear her desperate cries as the snow soon closed just above her head, leaving her only a few inches wiggle room in any direction. She had nowhere to go. She had no strength to break free.

She was trapped.

"Mommy! Mommy!" he could hear her cry. "I'm here! Mommy I'm here!"

Her tiny feet slipped from beneath her. No strength left to stand. No more tears left to cry. No will left to live. Just numbness.

She was dying, right before his eyes, and he couldn't do anything about it.

"Remus," a familiar, rough female voice said behind him, bringing him back to harsh reality. He didn't even bother to turn. He knew who it was. There was a rustling of leathery garments, and when he turned his head slightly, he found that the woman had returned. She was seated atop his son's horses yet again. Her chest was heaving. "I couldn't find anything."

"Dad," Remus said hoarsely, urging his mare forward to stand alongside him. "We have to find shelter. We can't stay out here much longer."

He sighed. Remus was right.

Wordlessly, he gave his horse a soft kick, feeling the beast's muscles quiver as it started forward. His son's horse followed. He had no sense of direction in this blizzard. No idea of where he was, where shelter could be found, where his troupe was. He himself was floundering. Would his fate be the same that he feared had stricken Sakura? After all he had lived through, foreign kings after his head, entire cities bent on his punishment, murderous ex lovers, would this freak-storm be what finally forced the Great Kan to close his eyes for eternity? His own death didn't scare him as much as Remus' did, though. That was what truly crippled him. He had lived a good life, a reasonably long life, considering his line of work. He had satisfied himself, gotten to spend many an evening with friends, drinking and laughing at what the others had to say. He'd spent many a night with many a ladylove.

Remus had not. His life had been much more turbulent. He'd had a rough beginning, you could say. The last thing he wanted was for Remus to die now, when he still had so much life left to live. It was his job to protect him, even if Remus was an adult. Every parent would tell you the same.

However, he couldn't care less about Gea. She was no family of his.

"Kan, we're going to freeze. Are you honestly going to risk all of our lives just for the sake of a little girl?" Gea said to him, emotionlessly. Her voice rang with disdain.

He didn't have the patience. He couldn't stand it any longer. He couldn't hold back.

"Well what do you bloody suggest we do then?! How can you be so heartless? I can't see my hand in front of my face, how do you suppose I'm going to find shelter?! What do you think I am, a freaking fairy?!" he barked. Remus jolted in his saddle. Gea only lowered her eyebrows, never breaking eye contact. "Hmm? If you're so much better of a leader than I, then I implore you! Lead the way!"

His voice was sharp, and words sharper still. Most days, he would have shuddered at what he had just said. But not today. He had met his breaking point.

"Gladly." Was all that the woman said. He watched with narrowed, sneering eyes as she slipped from Remus' horse, and trekked off into the snow. Remus gave him but a sheepish shrug before urging the black horse to follow her. She never once turned as they walked. Occasionally, she'd stop to allow them both time to catch up, but never gave them a glance. Only once did she look as though she'd lost her sense of direction. It lasted but a moment, before she was off again. It may have been only a moment, but he had relished in it, nonetheless. Honestly, he almost wanted her to fail. He wanted shelter, of course, but her attitude when she found it would be unbearable.

When she stopped abruptly, as if frozen, it startled the both of them.

He swore that he heard her mutter a curse word.

"Gea?" Remus called from atop his horse. The storm had actually slowed slightly, allowing them the ability to see farther than they'd previously been capable. The could see a mountainside not more than a mile ahead. Carved into the hillside, was the mouth of a cave.

"Praise to the goddesses-! You actually found shelter!"

But she made no move. She was still frozen in her steps, staring at the ground ahead.

If he looked carefully, he thought he could see a mass of some sort. His interests had been piqued. He moved his mare closer, till he was but a few feet behind her. A bloody scene laid before her. The snow had been dyed sickly red. In the midst, the body of a man was sprawled, facedown in the freezing ice.

"Whoa…" He heard Remus rasp. Gea turned a harsh, almost frightened gaze on him as he dismounted and came up beside her. Why did she look almost defensive? Why wouldn't she want him to investigate?

"He's obviously dead." She muttered to him nonchalantly, stepping through the bloodied snow and proceeding toward the mountainside. He wasn't convinced. He leant beside the unconscious man, picking up one of his bruised, battered, calloused hands by the wrist and pressing tightly. It took a few seconds, but then there was a faint flutter, a fragile beat. This man was alive, albeit barely.

Grabbing him by the shoulder, Kan flipped the man onto his back. He now found where the blood was coming from. Two ghastly gashes, obviously at the hand of a knife, had been ripped into his left side and thigh. His skin was almost as white as the snow, and his lips and fingers were blue. Even beneath the light cotton of his shirt, he could see that the man was thin, malnourished, and underfed. His golden hair was greasy, and matted with dirt, as if he hadn't bathed in a month.

"Holy mother of din-!" He rasped in astonishment. When he had first caught a glimpse of this man's pitiful figure, he had, for a brief moment, thought that he looked familiar. Now he knew that he had been right. He did know this man.

"What is it, dad?" Remus asked, still not dismounting from his horse. He watched with some hesitation as Kan lifted the man by his shoulder and slung him over his own mare's back, caring not of the blood the quickly stained his skin.

"I found him! After all these years! I found him!" He said almost joyfully. He took the mare by the reins and broke toward the mountainside in a sprint. "I finally found Link!"

* * *

When he opened his eyes, his entire body was aflame with pain. For a moment, he had thought he was dead. The ceiling above him was dark and unforgiving. Only the warmth of a fire nearby had brought him around. Then again, maybe he was in hell.

He grunted, his side practically screaming in protest when he pulled himself, shaking, into a semi-upright position. He was leant against a rock, nothing between him and the hard, uncomfortable floor of what looked to be another cave. It couldn't be the same one. He couldn't see the exit, couldn't feel the bitter wind biting at him.

He, however, hadn't noticed the others in the cave with him, seated beside the fire. Link gasped in fright when one of them spoke. "Well, will you look at that? The moron is awake."

There were three people here with him. The one who had spoken, one of two men, had stood, revealing his staggering height. He had a terrible sneer on his face.

"Been a long time, Linky," he said mockingly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his thick, knee-length leather jacket. His honey-brown eyes were narrow from his sneer, only partially visable from beyond bangs of dark auburn hair. Inwardly, he gave a fierce groan. Did the goddesses have something against him? How, of all the millions of people in the world, had he found this one. How had he found Remus?

He was definitely in hell.

"Nice tats, by the way. Where'd you get 'em?" Remus asked him, almost insultingly, moving over to where two horses stood, tethered to a large root protruding from the cave wall. From the saddlebag of the black one, he pulled a thick book. He brandished it in the air for the other man to see.

"Care?"

The other man shook his head with a shrug. He was older, with dark black hair despite his age, wearing a thick black shirt and pants, the cuffs rolled up with his elbows. Around his neck, a blue bandana was tied, matching the color of the sash around his waist. At least he welcomed the company of this one a touch more than Remus. Kan had once been a good friend to him. That is, when they had both been much younger.

"Its none of your business." He said shortly, turning his head from the man. He didn't want to be here. He didn't even know where he was. And for the first time in many years, he felt the almost nauseating ache of homesickness. A depressing, terribly lonely ache in the pit of his heart. A deep longing to be around those who actually cared for him. Not those who wanted to use him.

The third one was a woman, much shorter than her companions, with limp black hair that hung in front of her dull silver eyes, the hue of melted iron. Her clothes were meager considering the weather. A thin, almost see-through nightgown with lace hems along the top off her breasts. And a thick leather coat, a few shades darker brown that that which Remus wore. It could have been considered fitting, if the sleeves had not been ripped off, leaving her arms completely bare.

He had not the foggiest clue who she was.

He remained silent as Remus sat beside the woman, and after opening the book, began idly ripping pages from it, crumpling each into a ball and tossing it into the dying flames. With each page, the fire seemed almost to leap up to grab the paper, like a dog eager for a scrap of food.

Occasionally, he caught Kan looking at him, directly at the black tattoos that were permanently etched into his skin. He had a somber look on his face, as if he knew what it symbolized. A sick disregard for human life and freedoms. That was what meant to him. A battle scar that could never be healed.

He sat in silence. He had no interest in speaking with them. Fidgeting to find a more comfortable position, he was met with the unexpected sensation of tight cloth against his body, and found that his side and thigh had both been bandaged over his clothes. And then he remembered.

He remembered the cruel battering he'd received. The Mountain Demon was no joke, no wives tale told to keep their children in bed after dark. He'd been severely outmatched. His already abused and weakened body had stood no chance against him. This demon was unlike any he had faced.

The demon had charged with ferocity akin to the bull it mastered, eyes unseen and body moving with strength and grace. He'd been damaged beyond what he could withstand in minutes. He couldn't even remember the moment that the knives had found his unprotected flesh. It had all been a blur of charging demon and fluttering leather fabric.

His saving grace had been that something, somewhere, drew the beastly man's ire away. Only moments after he had fallen to the snow, unable to hold out any longer, the beast had given him a last glance before bounding off into the white surroundings, leaving him to die, be it by wound or cold.

What could have drawn the beast away? Had it sensed the three now sitting across from him?

Looking at them now, as Remus tossed the last few pitiful pages of the book into the flame, he found that the woman seated between him and his father was giving him a distasteful look. Her shoulders were slumped, chin raised and head tipped to one side in defiance.

Why she was glaring at him so was anyone's guess, he supposed.

When the last of the pages had been consumed by the flame, the empty husk of the book was tossed in as well, Remus rising once again to his feet.

"I'm gonna go check the entrance." He said casually, both hands tucked into his pockets. The woman rose with him.

"I'll come with you."

He and Kan watched as the left, disappearing beyond a curve in the dark, natural stone walls.

"So Link, how's life been treatin' you?"

* * *

**I can't apologize enough to all of you for the long wait. I think I've actually been a little depressed lately, so doing anything that requires enthusiasm has taken a lot of unnecessary effort.**

**I thank you all for sticking with me. And yes, this part gets better, I wasn't hyping it just to make myself feel better. It starts slow, that's all.**

**Thank you.**


	26. Crocodile Tears

**Well, at least you all didn't have to wait too long for me, this time anyway. I'm not sure that this is my favorite chapter either, but hey, its a chapter, so there. Trust me, part three gets better, it just starts slowly is all. **

**I'm so excited though! My favorite band is coming to town and i'm going to see them! Muse is coming! Oh my g.o.s.h!**

**ANyway, enjoy this shorty-shortenstine chapter. It's basically just setting everyone up for where they're going to be. Also, just a warning, watch out for the language, I went a little crazy I think...**

* * *

Chapter 26

Crocodile Tears

* * *

Having parted with Remus, telling him to check the entrance on his own, Gea strode further, deeper, into the darkness of the caves. All around her the air was damp and cold, droplets of condensation falling from the ceiling and dribbling down the walls. Above her, stalactites protruded menacingly from the hard brown stone, sharpened tips pointing directly down on her. Not that it bothered her.

She hadn't feared death in quite a while.

The further she traveled, however, the warmer it became, coming closer and closer to the mountain's core. When she passed through a narrow passageway, only a few inches leeway on either side, making her shimmy to get through, she found herself in a massive crater. The heat that assailed her body was intense, and cloying, and made her feel as if she was going to choke, it was so thick.

She regained her composure, and for the first time, got a good look at the place she had stumbled into. She was standing on a ledge, several hundred feet above the floor of the crater, with no feasible way to reach the bottom. Only but a few feet away from the base of her ledge, thick red magma was pooled, bubbling and spattering, bubbles releasing a hiss as they popped. Embers floated lazily into the stagnant air, no wind or breeze to carry them.

She'd found Snowhead's core. Despite it's name, and unbeknownst to the villagers that had settled at its foot, the mighty mountain was in fact an active volcano. It hadn't erupted in a millennia, but the lava still flowed freely within it's depths.

"It took you long enough." A sharp voice hissed from her left. She whirled toward the sound, swiftly drawing twin knives from their secret sheathes within the fabric of her coat. A man was seated upon a large rock near the edge, a conceited smirk playing at his lips.

"Who the hell are you?!" She said, snarling. The light of the embers glinted on the pristine metal of her knives. He let loose a short, haughty laugh.

"She was right, you really don't listen to anyone, do you?"

He stood, revealing his massive height, easily dwarfing her, and took a few sauntering steps forward. He was clothed all in black, from head to toe, a crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and relatively tight pants that were tucked into his riding boots. On his sharp, chiseled face, an almost cruel look was plastered, one corner of his mouth pulled up toward his cheek.

His hair was a bright, almost fire-red, cut to hang just below his rounded ears, spiking out in an every direction. He looked as if he hadn't brushed it in days.

"She? She who?"

"Didn't you receive word of my coming?"

"No, no I did not, why the hell would I? What are you, a king?"

He smirked, leaving her hanging for a moment, savoring it, backing her up to the opposite edge. Her heels were teetering off of the ledge, rocks and pebbles breaking from beneath her and falling to the floor below.

"King isn't exactly accurate, I suppose. Prince is more fitting."

Her perplexed expression seemed to bring him great pleasure, as he laughed directly in her face.

"Gea, my dear, you really shouldn't disregard messengers like that-"

By that point, she'd grabbed him by the jaw, making his teeth snap together as she forced his mouth shut, cold metal of her knife pressed against his neck as she held tight. She leaned in close, and through tightly gritted teeth, she hissed, "I don't freaking know you, don't you dare talk to me like that!"

She grabbed his shoulder with her free hand, and he watched with widened butter-yellow as she used him as a spring board, shoving his whole body down toward the floor, as gracefully as a crane taking flight, she swung herself over him, kicking her legs high into the air, bending her body till her feet hit the ground. He fell to the hard rock when she released, letting her knife slide across his skin, leaving a shallow red line where it touched.

"I don't know who you think you are, but no one speaks to me like that. Try it again and you'll be well acquainted with this blade.

She watched over her shoulder when he stood, waveringly, holding a hand to his bruised jaw. When she had flung her weight over him, she'd ripped his jaw with her, making sure to hear a nice, hearty pop. She felt a pang of disappointment when she saw that it wasn't broken. To further her dismay, he even chuckled, laughing yet again to himself as if he was in on a joke she didn't understand, making it even funnier.

"Lady Majora was right. You really don't get along with anyone, do you? Hmm…Must be a pretty pitiful life."

"Majora? How the hell do you know Majora?"

He snorted. If he didn't knock it off, she was going to rip his bloody voice box out. Try and laugh at me then! You'll get about as far as a one legged man in a butt kicking contest, my friend.

"Well, if you hadn't killed that innocent messenger, you'd know."

She held her hips in her hands lowering her head so that she could firmly glare at him in utter disdain.

"Would you stop avoiding my questions?! If you think that its sexy or mysterious or even mildly amusing, you are sorely mistaken," she growled, watching him intently. "It only makes more of an ass of you. Unless, of course, that's what you're going for. Then you'd be doing a flawless job." She sighed, and allowed one hip to drop.

"Well, I wasn't going for the whole 'ass' vibe, but it's a perk," he sneered, his smirk returned when she rolled her eyes. "You seriously don't know who I am?"

"Do you think that if I did, I'd still be here? Curiosity is the only thing that's stopping me from lodging this knife in your windpipe."

"Perhaps I oughtn't tell you then."

"Either way, end my curiosity or leave me hanging too long, my knife will still find you."

"That's not very fair."

"Welcome to life, princess. Life isn't fair."

"I'm here to-"

A thunderous rumbling coming from the cave's entrance, a sound that dwarfed all other noise around them, drowned his voice out. She jerked her head toward the narrow passage, eyes flickering between it and the man across from her, meeting his own eyes several terse times.

It felt as if the whole world was crumbling down around her.

Before he could react, she'd flung one of her knives at him, narrowly missing his throat, burying into his shoulder with the wet sound of ripping flesh and tendon. He hissed and staggered back, giving her the opportunity to race into the passage, shimmying as fast as she could manage, crab walking her way to open cavern. He recovered quickly, yanking the knife with a splatter of crimson droplets from his unprotected shoulder, and charging after her with ferocity.

He was already halfway though the passage by the time she broke free. Her boots thundered across the shaking shale and stone, jumping to dodge falling stalactites and crumbling rocks from above. She could hear him behind her, gaining ground quicker than she could cross it.

She gasped as a heavy force his her back, pushing her to the ground, crushing half the air straight from her lungs, making her struggle for air. He'd tackled her, and was now sitting on her back.

"You dirty bastard get off of me!"

Her own knife was pressed against the delicate skin of her nape, making her freeze.

"Next time, think before you fling a knife at the single most powerful warrior under Majora's command." He hissed cruelly.

"Pardon me? Most powerful? Oh, no, you didn't just say that-" She flung her entire bodyweight to one side, forcing him to topple over, her eyes caught the glint of the knife, and that was her first target. She grabbed his wrist, now laying on her side, facing him, forcing the blade back toward him. When he gave a burst of strength, she retaliated with a well-aimed kick, hitting him below his belt.

He cried out and released the dagger, giving her the moment she'd needed. She snatched it up in an instant, and this time straddled him, holding the metal to his chest with both hands.

"Next time," she sneered as the world around crumbled beside them, using his own words to taunt him. "Think before you steal another person's title. I did hear about you, a pretty little Gerudo from Hyrule. You think you can just waltz in and throw your weight around? There's a pecking order here, and I'm damn well higher up than a rookie like you."

The knife was just about to jab into his chest when two horses came thundering around the bend, one gray, and one black, riders clinging to their saddle-less mounts. The gray, carrying two, bolted past her, but the black skidded to a frenzied stop when the rider spotted her.

"Gea?" he gasped, holding the mare back from racing away after it's companion. "What's going on?! We have to go, the tunnel is collapsing!"

She smirked at the man beneath her, and when she turned to look up at her beau, put on a seductive little pout, letting her bottom lip jut out, lowering her eyelashes.

"He tried to kill me, Remus!" She said in a pitiful voice, a few clear, perfect, crocodile tears slipped from her now saucer plate eyes as she swung onto the mare, settling herself against him a flinging the man on the ground a quick, secret crude gesture with a hand as the mare gave a short whinny and broke into a gallop, leaving him behind to fend for himself against the rapidly crumbling cavern…

* * *

**So there you go. Have another chapter, I think that as far as plot goes, it'll get better from here on out, 'cause next chapter reveals some...interesting...character backstories...**

**Hope everyone is having a safe, happy holiday! **

**R &amp; R.**


	27. Arranged Marriage

**Yeah, I took a while with this chapter but with the Holidays and all, I've been a little busy. Two important notes at the bottom so please read!**

* * *

Chapter 27

Arranged Marriage

* * *

Futher north than any Hylian had ever traveled, past waving plains of Holodrum and Perilous peaks of Labrynna, was a vast expanse known as Catelicia. The remote kingdom was nothing more than a tundra, in which a few hundred people resided at the very heart. It was an unforgiving land, that only truly saw the sun a few days out of the year, and only felt the warmth of summer time for a few measly weeks.

However, despite most peoples' suffering, one person in the kingdom seemed to thrive. The daughter of a well-to-do merchant-turned nobleman. She was short, and womanly, with lively eyes the shade of the stars in the sky and silken black hair that cascaded down to her shoulders in soft ringlets. She was strong, and kind and good willed, and got along with almost everyone.

The number of people who didn't get along with her was very small. One, to be exact, and it came from the most unexpected of places. Her own mother.

To her father, she was the greatest of gifts, a blessing bestowed upon him by the gods. But to her mother, she was merely a hassle. "If only you'd been a boy, then you'd be worth something" or "When I got married, I distinctly remember saying I didn't want children." Were as common in her household as "How was your day, dear?" in most others. The first few times had stung. But she'd grown immune to the venom her mother could sling.

Across the frozen wasteland, a black shape raced, swiftly plowing through the winter snow and ice. It was a massive black horse, a stallion, surely larger even than the tundra bears that hunted upon the frigid plain. Atop it's back, dwarfed by the beast she rode, was none other than the merchant's daughter. Riding was her favorite pastime, frowned upon, just like every breath she seemed to take, by her mother, but her favorite nonetheless.

Onward toward her city she rode, carefree and free as an eagle, she only held to the stallion with a single hand tangled in his mane, she chose to ride bareback most often. She often found herself with a deep connection to her beast, to the point where saddles would only hold them back. When the giant beast's hooves first met the cobbles, the sound was startling to those around them, announcing her arrival better than any drummer could ever dream.

Any foreigner would have been awed by her presence, a commanding elegance permeated from her and her horse, immediately setting an impression of power.

Her role as Princess seemed justified at moments like those.

"Excellent, Sho," she whispered in the stallion's ear when she stopped him at the palace entrance. Her home was the largest in the kingdom, with brightly colored walls and pointed spires that seemed to claw at the sky above and reflected the sun's light on the rare occasion of it's shinning. "Absolutely stunning run, boy."

A dirt-caked stable boy took the stallion from her as soon as she dismounted, quickly tying a rope about his neck and leading him into the warmth of the stables.

"Make sure to cool him down before you stable him!" she called. "I don't want him stove-up in the morning!"

"Will do, M'lady."

"Thank you, Dom!"

She entered the palace, kicking off her boots and padding barefoot on the slick marble. It was cold to the touch, but didn't bother her in the least. Just as she reached a curved staircase, a voice called out to her.

"Princess," the voice said behind her. "The queen wants to speak with you."

She looked down at her riding clothes. They were covered in dirt and black horse hairs, cultivating a heavy aroma of damp horse.

"I highly doubt she'd want to see me like _this_."

"Princess, _now_."

"Fine, fine, but it's on _your_ head if she erupts like last time."

She turned, and made an exaggerated gesture of disinterest before setting of in the direction of her mother's chambers. The Queen's parlor was on the first floor, taking up an entire wing of the palace, filled to the brim with satin loveseats and laced coffee tables, all dyed a jarringly feminine shade of pink.

If you asked her, it was the most ungodly room she'd ever seen in her life. She was more for function, instead of form. Art didn't mean much to her.

Just as she had expected, her mother was seated on one of the dozen overstuffed sofas, dressed in red velvet from head-to-toe, primly holding a china tea cup in one hand, sipping at the aromatic drink. The minute she arrived, her mother's face assumed a look of complete disgust, the kind of face a person would make when they came across rotting garbage.

"Gods Gea, when will you stop acting like a boy and start dressing like a lady?"

She smirked.

"Didn't you want a boy?" She sneered.

"Hmph! Well, you're going to have to stop soon, whether you like it or not, what with the wedding and all."

"Huh? What wedding?"

"That's why I called you. The wedding between you and the prince of Ikana."

"What?! Me?!"

"You're eighteen, Gea. It's time you got married and settled down, and gave up on these childish pastimes of yours."

Gea could only stand and stare. Her mouth hung open, she tried to speak, but no words would come out.-

"M-mother-!" she finally gasped. The blood had drained from her face, and she felt as if she was going to faint. "I don't want to get married! I don't even know him!"

"You're marrying the prince and that's the end of this discussion. The dowry has already been paid, and the treaty signed. You don't get much of a choice."

"That's not fair!"

"Welcome to life, my dear. Life _isn't_ fair."

"Father won't let this happen. He'll listen to me!"

Her mother only smirked and took a sip of her tea.

"I wouldn't count on that, dear. This _was his_ idea, after all…"

* * *

The morning sun was insufferably bright in this wretched kingdom. It came every day, and had the audacity to shine so brightly and so warm. The heat was overbearing, even though it was only April. She had already made up her mind.

She hated Ikana.

Even in the shelter of Ikana Castle, the sun still taunted her from each and every window as she was marched, more like a prisoner than a princess, toward the throne room. Her stomach was in knots.

The doors opened with a squeaking of rusty hinges, and she was practically shoved inside. The floor was made of slick marble, off of which the sunlight reflected from the windows and nearly blinded her dark-adjusted eyes. It was several hundred feet ahead of her that her fate sat, on an ornate silver throne.

He was tall, and muscular, with dark, wavy hair and a well-sculpted face, and under different circumstances, he would have been halfway attractive. But that was not to be.

She hated the way he was sitting on that damn throne, thick hands grasping either armrest, one leg crossed. She hated the pompous tilt to his head as she stepped closer. She hated the hungry look in his eyes, as if she was nothing more than a cheep thrill.

She hated him. And she wanted nothing to do with him.

An older woman was seated on a smaller, more demure throne beside him, a bit portly around the middle, her graying hair tied into a reserved bun behind her head, and around her fat neck a string of saltwater pearls sat, a few sizes too small.

"Gea, I presume?" She said to her. She could only nod in return. She feared that if her mouth were to open, she wouldn't be able to control what came out of it.

"May I introduce you to your soon-to-be husband," the older woman rose, and made an extravagant gesture toward the man on the throne. "My son. Prince of Ikana, Igos Du Ikana…"

* * *

"So, pardon my asking, but WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!" Gea said, having to scream just to be heard over the collapsing cave and the thundering of frantic hooves. Remus was too focused on steering his mount through the narrow, winding passages to even register that she had spoken, and Kan's gray mare was several yards ahead, far out of earshot. She was left with no answer, and didn't prod much harder to receive one.

She was more concerned with survival.

As if to utter a silent prayer, she reached up with one hand to her collarbone, where an amber jewel was strung. But fingers grasped at empty air, and looking frantically down, she could see, even in the desolate darkness, that there was no amulet there.

"Remus," she gasped, grabbing the collar of his coat and yanking on it to gain his attention. "Remus we have to stop!"

"What?! Have you lost your mind?!"

"I have to go back!"

"You'll be crushed!"

"I'll only take a minute!" She flung herself from the horse's back, turning midair to land facing the crumbling, caving cavern. And into the darkness she raced.

A quick glance over his shoulder and he found that Remus' horse was nowhere in sight. It wouldn't have bothered him, to be honest, if the unruly sod was crushed. What did bother him was that Kan would be devastated. They hadn't seen each other in many years, but he held his tattered, bygone friendship with the man in high regard.

"Kan," he hissed, still awkwardly clinging to the mare's rump. "Remus isn't behind us."

Mere seconds after the words left his lips did the mare let loose a squeal, dragging her hooves against the hard rock in an attempt to stop herself.

Kan was looking over his shoulder now.

"What?! Where?" He yelped, turning the mare as fast as he could to send her barreling toward the crumbling rock and stone. The mare complied with uncertainty, ears tipped back toward her rider, willing him to turn tail and run again. She didn't want to go back. But her rider urged her ever onward, and she wouldn't refuse. Despite her being an ornery beast by nature, she was doggedly loyal to Kan.

It was almost a hundred yards behind that they found Remus and his horse, racing in the same direction as they, yelling, "Gea! Come back! We're too close!"

"Remus! Watch out!"

The black mare that his son was astride tossed her head back a moment too late. A moment too late to see. Remus never saw it coming either. From above a stalactite shuddered and broke free from the earthen ceiling, dragging large hunks of rock with it as it fell. Noticing, she threw her hooves into the air, tossing Remus like a rag doll.

The rocks fell. The mare screamed.

Gea came back into sight just as the mare crumpled to the ground beneath the weight of the rocks. Time seemed almost to stand still for that awful moment. Remus could only stare blindly onward, obeying like a sleepy child when Kan grabbed him and yanked him out of the way of another falling rock.

It seemed, though, that luck had finally given them its favor. The rumbling slowly ceased, and after the last of the rocks that had been jiggled loose from the walls and ceiling had tumbled to the ground, the cavern finally stopped crumbling. Remus waited not a second longer, and Link could only watch with a strange cocktail of emotions in the pit of his stomach as the man desperately grabbed rock after rock, throwing them aside in his frantic attempt to unearth his beloved mount. On one hand, he hadn't the least amount of sympathy for Remus

Link dismounted Kan's horse slowly, knowing what was to come. Kan wasn't far behind him.

Bit by bit, the horse's body was uncovered, thick black coat still coated with dust and rubble. A leg here, and neck there, and when the final rock was tossed away, Remus could only shudder.

The mare wasn't dead. Not yet. What she was, was very, very injured.

A mere brush of a hand against her side and he could feel that her ribcage had been shattered. One back leg was pointed in an awkward direction, half bent beneath her. Her breath was shallow, and gasping as she lifted her head slowly.

"San," he heard Remus whisper to the mare. "It's okay."

The mare grunted softly with every move she made, with every touch he gave. Her body must have been in anguish.

"Dad, the cave's stopped crumbling, we should stop here for the night. Let San heal."

Kan had a bittersweet look on his face as well. He and Link both knew already what fate would become of the beast. Remus was in denial. Neither was going to tell him the truth though. Better to let him come to accept it on his own…

There was no camp to set up. Their belongings, the few scraps of blankets and food they'd brought with them, had been lost in the caves. There was no wood to light a fire with. No water to drink. No light to work by. Only lonely blackness and bitter temperatures. The only one who wasn't huddled with the group was Link. He didn't feel comfortable with them. It wasn't that they'd excluded him. No one had told him to stay away. He just didn't want to be around them. They didn't understand him.

They never had.

And they never would.

"Gea," he heard Remus whisper through the stale air. "I've always been curious. Where are you from? You haven't told me."

There was a considerable span of silence, in which every sound could be heard quite clearly, breath, gently shifting rocks, dripping of water from above. It was a full five minutes later she finally responded.

"I haven't told you because I come from nowhere."

"Everyone comes from somewhere." Kan piped in.

"Where I come from is nowhere to you."

"Try me."

"I can tell you all about it in three words."

"Shoot."

"Cold. Dark. Depressing."

"You mean like here?"

"In a way."

"Doesn't sound like a fun place to grow up." Remus mused.

"That's why I had to grow up fast…"

* * *

**Okay, there you go, did I shock anyone?! Kind of a weird chapter, but its a chapter, right?**

**So, note #1. Reasons for absence: Lately, I've been depressed. I don't mean "ho hum, i'm bored, what should I do" kind of depressed, I mean, like borderline clinically, "i'm freaking sad, what's the point? I don't feel like this, I don't feel like any of this, why should I try" kind of depressed. Seriously, i'm not lying. I'm trying my best to muddle through and update frequently, but it's been hard. (i'm not trying to garner pity, though. Just telling everyone a bit about why I've been so quiet.)**

**Note #2.  Reader Survey: I'm trying to get a feel for what my strengths (and, as much as I cringe at it, weaknesses) are, so if anyone capable could participate, i'd appreciate it!**

**Who's your favorite good guy (or gal?)**

**Who's your favorite villain? (thus far, they haven't all been released yet)**

**Who's your least favorite good guy? Why?**

**Who's your least favorite villain?**

**What's your favorite chapter? Why?**

**Least favorite?**

**If you aren't in my (very small) circle of friends, what attracted you to the story? And why are you reading? For romance? Fluff? Angst? Hoping everyone kicks it? Hoping that at sometime I'll write a lemon (in which case you'll be very disappointed and should leave right now)**


	28. The Handler

Chapter 28

The Handler

* * *

"What?!" She hissed from her throne, the tattered red velvet curtains at her either side catching a wayward breeze and billowing into the openness of her Grand Hall. The messenger shuddered at the sound of her voice, cringing and coiling himself into as small a shape as he could manage. But it was not the woman on the throne, the one with the violet hair, that bothered him.

It was what slowly crept from the shadows.

Two figures, one a bit taller than the other, slunk hauntingly from the shadows beyond Lady Majora's throne, eyes glinting an inhuman shade of yellow. The shade of their skin was exactly the same, as was their hair, a dark ebony hue. They moved in perfect sync, never missing a stride, creeping down the stairs toward where he stood, licking their lips, giving him a glance at the sharpened fangs beyond.

Before him, they split off, one circling him from the left, the other from the right. They were so close he could feel their breath.

"Y-your Ladyship…" he stammered, voice cracking when the cold metal of a knife was suddenly pressed flush against the back of his neck. "Goht has yet to kill the Deity, and Lorelei is fast approaching the north."

"And what of my eighth warrior?"

"As far as I know, he is currently stranded within the mountain's core. The entrance collapsed before I could enter."

He felt the knife slide across his skin, sending a chill down his spine. He watched as her face slowly turned to a look of disappointment, then anger. He felt his stomach drop out from beneath him, his knees going week, when the woman rose from her seat in a flurry of fine magenta fabric. She descended the stairs with grace, one bare foot directly in front of the other, giving her hips a seductive sway.

She leaned in so close, he could smell her skin, her elongated nails dragging against the exposed skin of his neck, up toward his chin. She smelled faintly of vanilla, and peppers, sweet and spice, mixed into one intoxicating aroma.

"I told you to keep with him, dear," her voice was deep and sultry in his ear, her lips pressing against him as she whispered. "So that I knew what was to become of him."

He was falling into her trap. He could feel it, somewhere in the back of his skull. He didn't understand what it was that was so enthralling about her, nor did he particularly care, at that moment. Her nails dragged across his cheek, then grasped a stray lock of his hair, twisting and toying with it between her fingers.

He had to fight back.

With a shrill screech, she staggered back when the blade of a tiny knife he'd kept skillfully concealed behind his wrist stabbed into her arm. For a brief, beautiful moment, his face glowed with smug satisfaction, being one of the very few to successfully break from Majora's icy grip. However, he had never heard what was to come. If he had, he would have taken his previous fate.

The twin demons were on top of him before he could get a word in edgewise, knocking him to the marble floor with the painful crack that was his right leg, severing one of the bones clean in half, rendering him defenseless. He couldn't stand, couldn't run. Only look up into the furious face of Majora. Moving like snakes, the twin demons were at his either side, making sinister growls and clicks of their teeth.

And for the first time he'd ever known, the demons spoke.

"Should have listened," the male hissed into his ear, his lips smacking as if in anticipation. "Mistress Majora only warns once."

"What _are_ you sick people?!" He gasped, appalled when the female took his right arm in her grip and gave an experimental lick, testing the flavor. Both only chuckled in response at first. Then, the female leant low, till her lips were beside his ear. "Foolish mortal…"

"We aren't human,"

"We are death…"

* * *

Morning came to the northern mountains, and yet the storm still raged. If anything, the blizzard had grown worse over the dark hours. Within the belly of the mountain, Link and the other's still sat in darkness, having no fire to see by, merely sprawling out on the hard floor, waiting for a miracle that they knew would never come. Over the night, Remus' mare's condition had grown worse. They knew it, even if the couldn't see.

They didn't need to see. They could hear it.

Rasping, painful gasps were all that the mare could muster.

Even if Remus refused to admit it, they all knew what fate was in store for the mare. She was dying. There was nothing they could do for her.

Link laid flat on his back, away from the group. He didn't want to be around them. Perhaps it was a bit immature, the way he was acting. But in all honesty, he didn't care. He and Gea hadn't struck it off on the right foot, he could sense the occasional harsh glare from her pale silver orbs. And Remus had never treated him nicely, so where was the need to put an effort into being sociable?

Of course Malon would scold him for his behavior, but she wasn't here, now was she? The thought that he had left the ranch that fateful day drove his mind mad. There were so many should-have, would-have, could-have scenarios racing through his mind he felt he could scream. He never should have left. In the past, leaving Lon Lon was never a good thing. During his previous journey, the ranch had been his one and only sanctuary. The one place he had felt safe. The one place he could rest.

But he had had to leave many times back then, and each time had brought with it a laundry list of pain, both physical and emotional.

He should have known this would happen.

Had he grown too complacent? As soon as he had seen the smoke, he should have put his guard up. If he had, he might have noticed the Shadows before they got him with the dart.

Did Malon know what had become of him? Did she know he was making every effort he could muster into getting back to her? Or was she starting to wonder? Started to wonder if he had left her of his own free will?

He could only hope that she realized how deeply he really did love her, how completely and utterly, and how he would never leave her. He could only hope she was waiting. He didn't doubt that she was worried. He knew she could work herself into a panic about the most minor of problems if left to her own wild imagination.

Hopefully, Jack and McKenna were around to help her retain her sanity.

"Damnit! I need light!" Kan said suddenly, shattering the almost eerie silence that had gripped them throughout the night. A scuffling of boots on the ground told him that the older man had risen from his place on the cold ground, and was searching around for something, anything he could set alight.

His searching sounds soon left earshot, and was gone for several minutes.

When he came back, his presence was heralded by a dim orange flame, flickering weakly on the end of a damp stick. It fizzled and popped against the soggy wood, barely strong enough to stay lit.

However, it somehow remained, and when he came up to stand amongst his group, all eyes moved to where Remus' mare lay. Flat on her side, the horse's belly was round and swollen, her eyes weak and glassy. Every breath brought with it a terrible shudder, a tired gasp. Her tongue was pale, almost as white as snow.

Link watched when Remus shuffled over to the tortured mare, and sat beside her head, dragging his fingers through her raven-colored mane and whispering.

"Oh San…"

He and Kan exchanged a glance, both knowing that Remus had finally come to the realization that the mare would not survive. It was somewhat surprising to the both of them that he'd come to the realization on his own. Both had expected him to deny it, until one or the other had to break the truth to him.

But Gea's reaction was all the more surprising.

She was standing at Remus' side, staring down at the mare. A thin film of liquid covered her eyes, both her hands and her jaw clenched tightly. She was genuinely upset about the horse's fate. She felt emotion. Something the both of them had thought impossible. They both jolted when she turned on them with a feverish snap, striding up to Kan.

"Give me your sword." She demanded with an outstretched hand. The dim firelight glinted against her glassy eyes, which were full of pain.

"What? Why?"

Her lips curled into a frustrated huff.

"Just give it to me!"

He reluctantly obeyed, sliding one of two narrow swords from the scabbard on his back and passed the hilt to her. For a moment, he refused to release his grip from the leather-wrapped hilt, staring into her eyes, trying to convey a silent warning to the woman.

When she turned, sword in hand, Remus was standing, watching her with dismay written on his face. He threw his arms out wide when she tried to step past him.

"No! Don't!"

She stopped, and looked into his eyes, the sword between them.

"Remus, its-"

"No! You won't kill her! I won't let you!"

She stood her ground.

"Remus, look at her."

His eyes remained locked with hers.

"Look at her."

He did, for however short a time before he whipped back to her, never letting his guard down.

"Every minute that passes is pain. She's bleeding out. You can't see it, but it's there. It's pooling in her abdomen. The longer you let her live, the more pain she'll be in."

"But Gea, I-"

"I know you don't want to. No one _wants_ to."

A few wayward tears had found their way to Remus' eyes. She took his shoulder in her free hand with a surprising amount of tenderness, and gently pushed him out of her way, toward Kan.

"Take him out of here."

Kan needed no prodding. He took Remus' shoulder, and, making sure he couldn't turn back, quickly guided him around the bend, at every second expecting to hear what was to come. However, she waited, until Link was the only one left. Even Kan's own horse had followed quickly after him. For some disturbing reason, she was staring at him, not the mare. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the sword, glaring in his eyes with her lifeless silver ones.

He didn't know whether to speak or remain silent. For some reason, the situation felt familiar, although, for the life of him, he couldn't understand why.

She broke eye contact finally, and quickly turned her back on him, facing the mare. But he still watched, unsure of what was the right thing to do.

"Go." She said. Her voice was shaking.

He didn't move. He was slightly afraid to.

"LEAVE!"

And this time he did. He broke off into a painful run, the wounds on his side and thigh were still fresh and tender, and were aggravated with every step he took. But he ran anyway, after Kan and Remus. Although they weren't his first choice in company, given the option between them and Gea, he chose them wholeheartedly…

* * *

A few minutes later, the deed was done. Beside her, Kan's sword lay on the stone floor where she had thrown it, blade covered in blood. She sat beside the mare's now lifeless body, staring blindly out into the darkness. Even if it had been lit, she doubted she would have seen anything. Behind her eyes, the scene played over and over, haunting her. She was too distracted to notice the wall of fallen boulders beginning to shift.

From beyond several smaller chunks of hard earth, a hand shot free, grasping at the openness, seconds later, the rest of the body following behind. She only noticed when the person gasped, taking in a full breath. By then, it was too late to react. A knife, the knife she'd left behind, was pressed, sharp end against her skin, above her heart.

She didn't need to see in order to know that this was the same man she'd left for dead.

"How did you survive?!"

He chuckled in her ear.

"Simply put, I'm just rather hard to kill."

"It killed this horse, and she wasn't trapped under it nearly as long as you!"

"You and I aren't that different, then, are we?"

His words boggled her.

"Who _are _you?"

"Malikai, prince of the Gerudo. And I'm your _handler _now…"

* * *

**So, I listened to Courage's advice and took some me time, read a book, played Skyward Sword, yada yada yada. And it worked. I feel a bit better. Still not 100% but its a start. Thanks for everything Courage! **

**And thank you to all my readers! Each and every one of you makes my day!**

**Next up is a chapter for my other, newer story, "The Legend Of Verity"!**


	29. Don't Underestimate Me

**Hi everyone! I'd say whether or not its been forever...but...to be completely honest I don't remember when I posted the last chapter lol...**

**But anyway, here it is, its bit weird but its a transitional chapter. And check out mi amigo Link'sLily's DeviantART page! She did the most AMAZING DRAWING OF GEA! And lots of other beautiful art too! Follow here there too! SHE NEEDS MORE FOLLOWERS FOLKS!**

* * *

Chapter 29

* * *

Don't Underestimate Me

* * *

"You're _crazy_ if you think I'll do as you say," Gea hissed through tightly grinding teeth. "I'm not afraid of a knife. Pain doesn't bother me."

She heard him chuckle softly into her ear, his strong fingers gliding across the exposed skin of her arm. Before he could touch but another inch of skin, she whirled on him, ducking beneath the knife and spinning on her heal, thrusting a quick, debilitating punch into the pit of his stomach.

He gasped and doubled over for a moment, but recovered quickly. The minute he straightened, she could see that his face was full of sudden, indignant rage. Even with her experience, she failed to foresee what came next.

"You bitch!" He said, his voice more of a primal roar than anything she'd ever heard. She didn't even see it coming. Red-hot pain exploded in her senses, making her stagger back. For a moment, all she could see was the color red, the color of the blood that was now draining from her freshly broken nose.

Until the adrenaline kicked in.

Her vision drained of the all-encompassing red hue, and become utterly locked on the man. She instantly countered with a left hook, shoving her closed fist up and into the curve of his jaw, smirking with each little crackle of each little tendon. He was sent hurling backward, fighting to keep his balance. When he found his footing and looked up with a shocked, pained expression, she raised her fists to chest level, spreading her stance on the cold, dank stone floor. "Don't underestimate me, boy. It _will_ be the last thing you do."

The slightest smirk found the corners of his lips. He flung a kick at her thigh, and she dodged only a second early enough, feeling the sole of his boot graze against the fabric of her tight cotton trousers. With possession of her knife, he had the advantage, and he was utterly flaunting it. His movements were fluid, and sauntering, like a peacock strutting about, showing off for the hens.

And she was going to have _none_ of that.

She gasped when he suddenly lunged, and grabbed her underneath the arm. Her eyes traveled quickly down his abdomen, catching on the buckle of his belt. The knife was close to her skin, she could feel the cold metal, and in a final effort, she grabbed the buckle and ripped it away from his body. It gave a fight only for a moment, then gave way, pulling the belt with it. His surprise gave her just enough time to yank herself from his grip and retreat.

But he laughed when he saw that she had the belt stretched tight between her hands.

"What are you going to do with that? Lash me?"

"I'm not really 'into' that sort of thing, but if you'd like I could _certainly_ give it a go."

He eyed her for a moment, she could see the cogs grinding. And then he jumped. He jumped at her with the knife ready to slice into any part of her it could reach. But this time she'd seen it coming. She ducked beneath the knife, and caught his weight on the belt. And in the moment that it took for him to process what had happened, she had the belt around his hand, ripping the knife from his grip.

"Now what?" He asked, almost seeming to dare her, glaring at her, immobilized.

"This." She rammed the steal tip of her boot into his left shin. He cried out and doubled forward, Just that move alone would have easily rendered him beaten in their battle. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't done yet. She brought her knee up as he fell down, slamming it into his nose, feeling the hard cartilage crack under the pressure, and sending him reeling, this time backward.

To make sure he went down, she thrust one final, powerful kick into the pit of his stomach, and gave a single, haughty laugh when he fought one last time to remain standing, only to have his heal catch on the dead mare's back. He in a degrading heap beside the mare's corpse, the blood spattering across his body. Looking up, he found himself staring at the tip of Kan's sword, which Gea had finally retrieved.

"I can _handle_ myself, thank you. You can tell Majora to get off her high horse and wait three more damn days! I'll get the job done."

The man raised both palms, giving the slightest of shake of his head.

"Fine. Have it your way," he hissed. "But if you fail, you're _all_ dead."

"All?"

"Everyone with you. _Him_ included."

She gave a soft, haughty chuckle. "Him? You think you can manipulate me by using _him_? Haha! I could care less! He's merely my way in, nothing more."

Hearing footsteps, she turned, flicking the blade of dim orange light illuminated her a few moments later. Apparently, despite its week state, the meager little flame Kan had lit had managed to survive this long.

"Is it over with?"

She nodded, and passed the bloodied sword to him, watching as a bitter look overcame his features. Then he noticed the blood that was still draining freely from her aching nose.

"Did everything go alright?"

"Yeah, of course, why?"

"Uh, you…well…you're bleeding."

"Oh, that? That's just a nosebleed. I get those when the pressure changes," she answered nonchalantly, dismissing him with a few flicks of her wrist and striding jauntily toward the rest of the cavern, hoping to lead him away from the man. "Hey, maybe that means the blizzard's died down!"

"We can only hope. We still have to find a way out of her though, we don't have any water or food." He muttered, following her into the narrow cavern, guiding her toward where Link and Remus were.

"We will. There are exits everywhere in this mountain. You just have to know where to look."

"How do you know?"

"I've been here before."

"Wait, what?" she didn't look back at him despite the slight tone of surprise in his voice. "You've been here before?"

"Yeah…a long time ago, but I explored these caves when I…visited…all those years ago. I doubt they've changed much."

A heavy, painful gasp came from several hundred yards ahead, startling them both. It had sounded like Remus. They exchanged a quick glance, and bolted, Kan quickly outpacing her and racing into the darkness until he reached where the other two had stayed behind. They'd chosen a wide alcove off of the main tunnel, where there were several bundles of old, dead tree roots stuck in one wall. Perfect for burning.

When he reached the alcove, he found that Remus had Link by the shirt collar, a fist cocked back, ready to be thrown. Kan could only sigh and roll his eyes.

"Enough!" he grabbed Remus by his bluntly pointed ear and yanked, eliciting a pained yelp. Link was freed of the taller man's grip, but instead of backing off, attempted to fling himself at his opponent, only for his own ear to be firmly grabbed as well, and sharply tugged on. The makeshift torch fell to the floor. "Can't I leave you two _idiots_ alone for _five minutes_?! Goddesses, it's like you two never _grew up_!"

Assured that they wouldn't immediately go for each other's necks, he released their respective ears and retrieved his torch, though the flame had fizzled out a bit from touching the damp floor.

"What the hell was that about?"

Both looked a bit ashamed.

"He insulted my daughter! How do you expect me to react?!" Link snapped, crossing his arms and glaring daggers at Remus, who, unimpressed, began to pick at his teeth with one finger.

"And you?"

Remus shrugged.

"I was only sayin' the truth. He's noble, ain't he? What good's a daughter?"

Kan shook his head, then turned to Link.

"Ok, you need to take a chill pill. Yes, what Remus said was wrong, but he's baiting you. Don't take the freaking bait. And you," he turned on his son. "If I ever catch you talking down about women again, I'll make sure Gea hears about this, understand?"

"You'll make sure I hear about what?" She asked, coming into the dim firelight. Remus went as stiff as a board, and could only look to his father with a pleading look. Kan smirked, and turned to her.

"Oh, nothing. These two were just telling me _how much_ they _cared_ about each other."

Remus came around his father before his ear could be grabbed again, and draped an arm over her shoulder, not noticing the blood dribbling from her nose…

* * *

"Remus? You ok?" Kan asked over the fire he'd managed to build using the old, dry tree roots. Looking toward him, Link saw that Remus was pale and sweating, leaning against one of the walls closest to the rest of the cavern.

"Not exactly sure…I feel…just a bit sick."

"Do you have a fever?"

Link watched as the older man stood and came over to his son, leaning down and pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Goddesses-! You're burning up! When did this happen?!"

Remus actually chuckled a bit.

"Before the cave crumbled."

"Remus! Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

He didn't answer. A thought seemed to have come to him, a look of disappointment on the younger man's face.

"Dad…You wouldn't suppose it's the 30th, would you?"

"What the hell does that have to do with-oh…"

Link and Gea exchanged glances as the older man counted the days on his fingers.

"Shit…"

* * *

**So i'm going to put a huge dump of relevant character songs here, so sorry for all the extra content, but its been a while and none of these characters have revealed any before now so its a bit backed up.**

**Kan- **

**Lampshades On Fire – Modest Mouse**

**Stressed Out – Twenty-One Pilots**

**Immortals – Fall Out Boy**

**Hotel California – The Eagles (RIP Glen Fry! You'll be missed!)**

**Link- **

**R I P To My Youth – The Neighborhood**

**Long Way Down – Robert DeLong**

**The Cave – Mumford &amp; Sons**

**Remus-**

**Bad Wolf – Awolnation**

**Every Other Freckle – Alt-J**

**Drones - Muse**

**Gea- **

**The Handler – Muse**

**Somebody New – Joywave**

**Gold – SirSly**

**Dangerous – Big Data feat. Joywave**

**Malikai- **

**Reapers – Muse**

**Radioactive – Imagine Dragons**

**Remus &amp; Gea- **

**Hysteria – Muse**

**Starlight – Muse**

**For Your Entertainment – Adam Lambert**

**Need You Tonight – INXS**

**Sleeping With A Friend – Neon Trees**

**Please check some of these songs out folks. And lol so many Muse songs sorry about that I can't help myself! SOMEBODY SEND HELP I'M OBSESSED!**

**Thanks for reading, everyone! Sorry about the weirdness, it'll make sense in the next few chapters. And it might have seemed like action for nothing but trust me it has meaning. I'll say that the basic meaning is a battle of egos. I mean, Malikai has been trained by Majora and is a male Gerudo, which automatically gives him a lot of pride. So of course he feels he has a right to throw his weight around.**

**But Gea (I don't want to give away too much yet) doesn't like being bossed around by anyone, especially a man. **


	30. Run Like Hell

**WOO I"M ON FIRE! LETS GET THIS PARTY STARTED! Sorry for updating so quickly but I figured I should strike while the iron's hot!**

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Chapter 30

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Run Like Hell

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"It-it's the 30th, isn't dad?" Remus gasped, his breath seemed to have quickened, and grown shallow. His whole body was trembling, his hands were grabbing at the ground, as if trying to find something to hold. Link and Gea had both risen from their weary seats upon the hard ground, and over the fire, they watched as Kan fumbled with his son's thick leather coat, trying to unbutton it.

"Link, Gea," he said, not looking away from his son, whose tremors had transformed more into pained writhing. "Get out of here."

"What?"

"Get out of here, I don't care where to, just go."

Gea stepped toward him, reaching toward Remus' shoulder. "You aren't making any sense."

"I'm making perfect sense! Go!" He snapped at her, jerking toward her, a frightened look on his face. She raised her palms, and sidestepped toward the outlet that led to the rest of the caves. Link followed a short ways behind, only catching a glimpse of the writhing man's face, which had drained of all color, leaving his skin a pasty, sickly white. He made sure to grab a thick tree root before he left, dipping one end into the flame in the middle of the alcove and setting the root alight. When they entered the wide of the cavern, Gea took the lead, setting off into one of the narrow tunnels that zigzagged through the base of the mountain like a giant spider web.

"Where are we going?" He asked in a hushed tone. There seemed to be no reason to whisper, and yet even she responded in a softer, quieter voice than her usual.

"No idea."

They wove deeper and deeper into the mountain, getting a bit warmer as they drew nearer to the magma filled core. She was walking briskly, as if she knew where she was going, and he started to wonder why he was following her. She hated him, didn't she? At the very least she had no interest in being sociable with him, so why was he here?

Wouldn't this be the perfect opportunity to leave? Except he didn't quite no how to leave, given as far as he was aware, the only entrance/exit had collapsed, leaving them trapped in the dark, desolate place.

Would this be the place he died? The thought suddenly arose like a rock being dropped into his stomach. No, he couldn't die here. He had a family to get back to, children to raise, a farm to manage, and a wife to love. In a way, he didn't fear death. It was almost as if he'd already come to terms with it, with the fact that somewhere, sometime, it was inevitable. No, it wasn't the death part that bothered him.

He feared dying alone.

Dying without his loved ones, or worst yet, dying here, where they would never find him. Where they would never think to look, and be left to wonder if he was dead or alive for the rest of their own lives.

Technically, he wasn't alone, of course. There was Kan, and Kan was (or had been) a close friend, but he was no substitute to his real family, the one he'd made for himself.

"What do you think was wrong with Remus?" He asked, awkwardly trying to break the silence. She shrugged up ahead of him.

"Dunno. I'm more interested to know why the 30th has anything to do with it."

"Aren't you two…you know…"

"An item? Yeah."

"And you're not worried about him?"

"Its not really that serious, our thing. More of a…summer fling, you could say. I definitely don't plan on marrying the man or anything like that!"

"Oh…But you still aren't even a little concerned?"

"Not really. He's resilient, and 'concerned' isn't really my thing. Besides, Kan seems to know what he's doing."

She stopped suddenly, and without warning. He nearly bumped into her, hearing her growl when his hand touched her back.

"Don't do that!" he started to snap. She silenced him with a wave of her hand, holding it out for him to see. "What?"

"Something moved."

He looked toward the shadows ahead of them. There were three different paths, each leading in varying directions.

"Where?"

She pointed to the path leading left.

They both watched intently, and if they listened carefully, they could hear faint footsteps, scuffling around as if someone was searching for something. The footsteps grew louder, and slowly, a human shape came into view, bent slightly over, looking at the ground.

When it came into the firelight, they found that it was a man. A tall man, a few inches taller than Link, with shoulder length hair as white as snow and eyes that didn't match. One green, and one blue. He was clothed in a sturdy coat made of black leather, with purple around the collar and cuffs. He smiled warmly when his gaze met with theirs.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see anyone else around here!" He said jovially, outstretching a hand toward Gea.

"My name's Xenosis, everyone calls me Xen."

She reluctantly took his hand in hers and shook it firmly, giving him a suspicious glare from underneath lowered eyelashes.

"And I'm Gea."

Everything in her tone, in her body language, said that she was uncomfortable. Every muscle in her body had gone rigid.

When the man came toward him, he saw that a small green beast was perched upon his shoulder, a tiny, pink forked tongue flittering out of its mouth as they drew near, tasting the air. It was a tiny dragon, no larger than a cat, with forest green scales and silver trimmed wings.

"Link." He said, taking the man's hand a bit more amiably than Gea had. His eyes were still more drawn to the dragon though. The little beast was staring at him just as intently as he was at it, tilting its head and clicking its teeth.

The man named Xen seemed to notice his gaze, and laughed.

"Silly me. And this is Kaine."

The little dragon crawled forward and leaned toward him, sniffing with what looked to be curiosity. However when Gea spoke, her ears turned backward, and pinned against her neck like an angry horse, letting loose a few snarling hisses.

"I'm sorry but why are you here? This isn't exactly tourist central of Termina, you know," she turned to him, meeting his eyes with her deadpan steel ones. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were searching for something you shouldn't be."

"Well I certainly am searching for something. Is there something I should avoid? This is my first visit to Termina."

"Everyone who comes here is searching for the same thing," she walked toward the wall closest to her, and laid a hand against the cold stone. "This place is surrounded with legends. I'm sure you've heard them?"

"Do you mean the Legend of The Mountain Demon?"

She nodded. Link meanwhile remained silent. The old woman from the village hadn't said much of the Mountain Demon, and yet he was almost certain that it was the very being that had nearly killed him in the blizzard.

"The Mountain Demon made his home here. He was once a peasant boy raised in a snowy kingdom. But by cruel fate he was ripped away from the only place he'd known and forced to stay in the canyon to the east of here. When the Demon war was initiated, he was transformed into a demon, a horrible monster that killed for fun, and thrived on the fear of others. But his human side remained, and the weight of his sins grew heavy," she dragged her hand across the stones, her eyes slipping shut.

"So when his master was laid to rest, he came here, and made his home deep in the belly of this mountain, past the volcanic core, where no one could bother him. Most think he's dead. After all, the Demon War was centuries ago. But what else could explain this blizzard? He's alive, and something has made him very angry."

She turned to them both, her eyes locking with Xen's.

"You're after his sword, aren't you?"

"I only came in search of an ancient artifact from the Demon War. I don't have any details."

"If you go down there, it's a death sentence. The Mountain Demon wouldn't even have to touch you. You'd die before you got there, the further down you go, the more labyrinthine it gets. I suggest you leave, if you can find a way out."

The man tipped his head slightly, and shuffled a few feet in the direction of the path that led to their right.

"Well, I guess I should take your advice, although I might still do a little exploring before I leave. These caves are quite fascinating. It was nice to meet you both." Gea watched him intently as he ambled into the dark, not noticing as Link came up beside her.

"Gea," he said to draw her attention. "About the Mountain Demon. He's the one whose causing this blizzard?"

She only nodded. Her mind seemed to be in a far away place at that moment.

"So if the Mountain Demon were to die, the blizzard would stop?" This time he caught her attention. Her eyes flicked toward him, brow lowering just a touch.

"Probably, yeah. But its not that easy."

"No? He's just one person, isn't he? There's four of us, he'd be severally outnumbered."

"You seem to have forgotten the giant metal bull. The bull isn't a coincidence, you know. The bull is part of him, they're one and the same. Two heads, one heart. You'd have to kill them both."

She'd rendered him silent. At least he had tried to find a way to end the blizzard, tried to find a way to be positive.

However a gasping yelp from behind caught them both off guard. They swung around toward the direction they'd come from, and saw that Kan was practically flying toward them, panting already and pumping his legs as hard as they could be. As he flung past they heard him cry, "If you value your lives run like bloody hell!"

Someone or something else was coming after him at a frightening speed. It sounded like claws were scraping at the stone floor. The creature stopped when it came to the firelight, growling fiercely, making them both freeze.

A wolf was standing at the edge of the firelight, glaring at up them with crazed amber eyes, frothy saliva dripping from its half open mouth. Its coat was a deep, rich brown, like chocolate and honey, and the hackles were standing straight up on end as it eyed them. They shared a quick, wide eyed glance, then turned tail and bolted after Kan, racing deeper into the caves like the devil himself was on their heels...

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**...lets see what everyone has to say about that. I'm rather proud of this chapter to be honest. It felt like it came out pretty good, at least to me, considering I wrote it in a single sitting. Thanks again to everyone reading. Its you, the readers, that prompt me to continue writing. I doubt I would've gotten here without all of you.**

**And so Xen is introduced. He belongs to Courage Of Awesome, although his part in this story is very small, if you enjoy his character, check out the story following him and three other young adults that i'm writing as well, "The Legend of Verity."**


	31. What Doesn't Kill You

**...Hehe...Uh...Hi everyone...Yeah...It's been almost a year. So sorry about that. I'm sure people have left this story by now but I hope those who still are here will forgive me? 2016 was NOT my year. I'm so sorry you all had to wait so long.**

**Also no editing, at this point i'm happy I made myself write this chapter at all.**

**Finally for the chapter you may want to reference chapters 14. "Your Soul" and 22 "Part 2. Bargaining" to make any sense.**

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Chapter 31

What Doesn't Kill You

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"…Hello Igos." She purred huskily, lowering her eyelashes and coyly glancing over her bare shoulder. She gave a short, conceited laugh when the look on his face sank in. There was no color to his normal tanned, mocha colored face, he was as white as a sheet, as if he'd seen a ghost.

The premise wasn't completely untrue.

The last fragments of Keres' mind were quickly slipping away into the darkest, unknown places of her brain.

For a moment she gave herself the time to fully enjoy her handiwork. The woman on the throne who had so foolishly claimed to be her love's wife now knelt on the marble floor, weeping hysterically in a language that none in the room understood. The sword was still lodged in her chest.

An older woman appeared behind Igos, completely unawares to the disarray her throne room was in, not to mention her daughter-in-law. She shrieked when she reached the archway, her wrinkled face contorted in fear.

"Good afternoon, Queen Gyorg." Keres said to her almost jubilantly, now turning to face them. She stepped a few feet closer, leaving the woman on the throne to collapse, breathing, but dead inside, at the foot of her throne.

"What's going on Igos?!" the Queen screeched, clinging to her son's shoulder, shaking him violently for an answer. "What's happened here?!"

"Mother I don't know! I don't know!"

Keres smirked at them, then pointed back to the bloodied woman.

"Oh, that? I was just having a healthy discussion with this fine woman here," she sauntered a bit closer still, a dark, sadistic side of her awakening, loving the looks of terror in their eyes. "But could you explain one _teensy-tiny_ detail for me, dearest Igos?"

Now only inches from him, she reached up with a slender hand and stroked his cheek. He swallowed roughly, his chest practically heaving.

"She said she was your _wife_, dearest. Now, wasn't it but a week ago that you asked for _my_ hand in marriage?" she took his face in both her hands now, forcing him to meet her gaze, savoring the confusion on the Queen's face behind him. "Did you _forget_?"

"I-I- who _are_ you?!"

Anger suddenly bubbled in her veins. She glared into his glassy green orbs, her yellow eyes narrowing dangerously, grip tightening on his face. She dug her nails into his skin, making him wince as she held him tightly by the chin.

"You mean you don't recognize me? Your own fiancée?"

She dropped her hands to her sides, resting them, closed into fists, against her hips.

"I guess it's only fair," she sighed dreamily, turning her shoulder to him and taking a few swaying, taunting steps toward the bloodied heap of a woman. "I _have_ changed my appearance a bit. Don't you love it?"

"I don't know you." He responded in a shallow, breathy whisper, his gaze never lingering too long in one place.

The woman in front of the throne had quieted down to soft, confused whimpers. Her hands groped at the hilt of the sword, and all eyes fell to her as she cried out, pulling the sword from her tortured skin, allowing her to, at sweet last to collapse face first, a few splatters of her blood landing on Keres' bare feet.

Keres stepped over to the heap of a woman and sighed, as if perturbed.

"Oh my," she laughed, nudging the crumpled up woman on the shoulder with her foot. "Are you dead?"

For a moment, the onlookers believed that the woman on the throne was indeed dead. But as if to spite everyone, the thought-to-be corpse suddenly shuddered, and, head raising slowly, she smiled almost wickedly at Keres.

"T-thought I was t-that easy…to –k-k-kill, hmm?"

Keres could only chuckle in a mocking sort of way.

"Oh _no_ dear," Keres leaned down close, and pushed the woman's head up with a delicate finger under the chin. "You're alive because I _want_ you be."

She whispered something else to the woman that Igos and Queen Gyorg couldn't understand, something in a primal, venomous tongue that had been long forgotten. And for a moment after, the throne room was silent. Time seemed to stop for that painful moment, the moment that would come to change the lives of all those around her. And then she spoke.

"Rise."

And the woman did. She rose up from her prostrate position upon the marble like a machine, the gaping hole in her chest no longer dripping as it had been before. She adjusted her stance, then glared at Keres with a somber, crestfallen expression pulling on her angular features.

"Ah. Much better," Keres cooed, reaching out and patting the woman on the cheek. "You certainly are a strong one, strong as an ox-_no_ a _bull_," She looked toward the frozen pair at the throne room doorway, tilting her head innocently. "That's what you'll be called now. You'll take you name from the language of old. _Goht_…"

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In the darkness of the inner mountain of Snowhead, three people raced through the labyrinthine caverns like the devil was on their heels. But one member of the group was falling behind.

Link gasped, unable to hold the swift pace any longer, and nearly fell, his still healing side roaring in protest. The wound from the Mountain Demon's knife hadn't healed yet, and he feared that much more movement might cause the wound to rupture. And yet a darker fate resided in the shadows behind him. He could hear the padding of great paws approaching him, but he didn't dare look back.

A low rumble of a growl came from the beast's throat, he could see the foggy puffs of hot breath waft past him. The wolf was very close now.

He stood deathly still as the pounding of Kan and Gea's footsteps grew distant and eventually faded away altogether. His heart was still racing against his ribcage, but jumped into his throat when something wet and cold pressed against the palm of his hand. Desperately, he fought off the urge to yank his hand away. He knew that should he do that the beast might startle and attack. Instead he stood as still as his body would allow, save for the shivers that were slowly but steadily growing worse with every minute. It seemed as if the cavern has suddenly gotten very much colder in that moment.

It was an eerie lack of warmth that seemed to sap away the will to live.

He felt sharp, pointed teeth drag against the bare skin of his wrist. Was the beast sampling him? His heartbeat grew faster yet again, he struggled to keep himself steady. Much more and he felt like he would surely collapse.

For what seemed like forever, he stood there, completely still, the beast right behind him, maintaining contact with small sniffs and nips on his exposed skin. All the while his eyes remained closed. He figured at that point there was no reason for them to be open. He would be met with unending darkness no matter which fate befell him. Whether the wolf attacked or left, darkness came with both endings.

"Link," he heard Kan's voice whisper hoarsely over the distance. He cracked his eyes open to find the older man standing several yards away, able to just make out his figure amongst the cloying blackness that enveloped them all, a dim torch in his hand. "Very slowly…turn around."

Kan's words confused him. Turn toward the manic creature that had been chasing them so frantically? Had Kan lost his goddess-loving mind?!

"Link-!" Kan said, this time louder and more desperately. "Link turn around!"

And slowly, he did.

And as he did, he came face to face with the beast. In the darkness, the wolf's amber colored eyes glowed bright yellow, the pupils narrowed into slits.

"Back up, Link." Kan coaxed, his voice staying low, but getting louder each time he spoke.

"Back up."

He did as he was told. Taking one shaky step backward after the other. But with each step he took the wolf seemed to grow more agitated. It once again began to growl, a froth beginning to form around its lips as it followed him a few steps, hackles raising up again.

As soon as he was in arms length Kan moved suddenly, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him violently across the floor with a loud grunt, throwing him aside and putting his own body between Link and the wolf. Seemingly offended or startled, it wasn't clear which, the wolf let loose a sudden, savage bark and started toward Kan at a frightening pace, fangs borne.

But Kan didn't run. He stood his ground, throwing his arms out to prevent the beast passage.

And then words passed the older man's lips caused an audible reaction from both viewing parties, Gea having returned cautiously only a moment prior.

"REMUS STOP!"

And the wolf obeyed. Stopping in its tracks and looking at the man, almost in shock of the savage tone he carried in his voice.

Kan had just called the wolf by his son's name. He had called him Remus. Both Link and Gea stared on in shock as the honey and chocolate colored beast fidgeted nervously, claws scraping on the hard limestone flooring, never breaking eye contact with Kan.

"Remus. This stops now. I know you're in there," Kan pleaded with the beast. "I want my son back now. Come back to me."

Link took a sharp breath through his nose, his chest jolting, and watched as Kan lowered himself to his knees, arms still spread wide. Eye to eye with the beast he'd called his son. The beast stopped directly in front of the older man and eyed him wearily.

"Please, give him back."

Link and Gea both glanced at each other in the darkness, and by the time they had both returned their attention to Kan and the beast, the beast was gone. They could only assume that it had retreated into the shadowy caverns they had come from. Kan still sat on his knees, his arms slowly falling to his sides. And for what seemed like forever, they all remained still, even time seemed to slow down in those confused moments, each person lost in their own minds, unable to comprehend the others feelings or point of few.

In that simple moment, what little trust or camaraderie there had been between the three of them was suddenly and violently thrown aside, shattering like glass…

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**So yeah. There you have it, I finally updated this story. Again, I apologize for the wait. I hope you all had a nice time while I was gone 'cause the angst train is barreling down the tracks!**

**Thank you again for reading.**


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